Many months he wandered far away in sadness, desolately thinking
Only of the vanished joys he could not find;
Till the great Apollo, pitying his shepherd, loosed him from the burden
Of a dark, reluctant, backward-looking mind.
Then he saw around him all the changeful beauty of the changing seasons,
In the world-wide regions where his journey lay;
Birds that sang to cheer him, flowers that bloomed beside him, stars that
shone to guide him,--
Traveller's joy was plenty all along the way!
Everywhere he journeyed strangers made him welcome, listened while he
taught them
Secret lore of field and forest he had learned:
How to train the vines and make the olives fruitful; how to guard the
sheepfolds;
How to stay the fever when the dog-star burned.
Friendliness and blessing followed in his footsteps; richer were the
harvests,
Happier the dwellings, wheresoe'er he came;
Little children loved him, and he left behind him, in the hour of
parting,
Memories of kindness and a god-like name.
So he travelled onward, desolate no longer, patient in his seeking,
Reaping all the wayside comfort of his quest;
Till at last in Thracia, high upon Mount Haemus, far from human dwelling,
Weary Aristaeus laid him down to rest.
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