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eagerly that the Gryphon said, in a rather offended tone,
‘Hm! No accounting for tastes! Sing her “Turtle Soup,” will you, old
fellow?’
The Mock Turtle sighed deeply, and began, in a voice sometimes choked
with sobs, to sing this:--
‘Beautiful Soup, so rich and green,
Waiting in a hot tureen!
Who for such dainties would not stoop?
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Soup of the evening, beautiful Soup!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Beau--ootiful Soo--oop!
Soo--oop of th
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untenable supposition of the genuineness of this poem, there is
this curious peculiarity, that, in the description of scenes of
rustic peace, the superiority of Homer is decisive--while in those of
war and tumult it may be thought, perhaps, that the Hesiodic poet
has more than once the advantage."
258 "This legend is one of the most pregnant and characteristic in the
Grecian Mythology; it explains, according to the religious ideas
familiar to the old epic poets, both the distinguishing attributes
and the endless toil and endurances of Heracles, the most renowned
subjugator of all the semi-divine personages worshipped by the
Hellenes,--a being of irresistible force, and especially beloved by
Zeus, yet condemned constantly to labour for others and to obey the
commands of a worthless and cowardly persecutor. His recompense is
reserved to the close of his career, when his afflicting trials are
brought to a close: he is then admitted to the godhead, and receives
in marriage Hebe."--Grote, vol. i. p. 128.
259 --_Ambrosia._
"The blue-eyed maid,
In ev'ry breast new vigour to infuse.
Brings nectar temper'd with ambrosial dews."
Merrick's Tryphiodorus, vi. 249.
260 "Hell is naked before him, and destruction hath no covering. He
stretcheth out the north over the empty place, and hangeth the earth
upon nothing. He bindeth up the waters in his thick clouds; and the
cloud is not rent under them." Job xxvi. 6-8.
261 "Swift from his throne the infernal monarch ran,
All pale and trembling, lest the race of man,
Slain by Jove's wrath, and led by Hermes' rod,
Should fill (a countless throng!) his dark abode."
Merrick's Tryphiodorus, vi. 769, sqq.
262 These words seem to imply the old belief, that the Fates might be
delayed, b