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Hesiod, Theogony 6 0 Browse Search
E. T. Merrill, Commentary on Catullus (ed. E. T. Merrill) 4 0 Browse Search
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More) 4 0 Browse Search
M. Annaeus Lucanus, Pharsalia (ed. Sir Edward Ridley) 4 0 Browse Search
Homer, Odyssey 2 0 Browse Search
Homer, The Odyssey (ed. Samuel Butler, Based on public domain edition, revised by Timothy Power and Gregory Nagy.) 2 0 Browse Search
P. Ovidius Naso, Art of Love, Remedy of Love, Art of Beauty, Court of Love, History of Love, Amours (ed. various) 2 0 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More). You can also browse the collection for Olympus (Vermont, United States) or search for Olympus (Vermont, United States) in all documents.

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P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More), BOOK 1, line 163 (search)
onvulsed. Nor is the love thy people bear to thee, Augustus, less than these displayed to Jupiter whose voice and gesture all the murmuring host restrained: and as indignant clamour ceased, suppressed by regnant majesty, Jove once again broke the deep silence with imperial words; “Dismiss your cares; he paid the penalty however all the crime and punishment now learn from this:—An infamous report of this unholy age had reached my ears, and wishing it were false, I sloped my course from high Olympus, and—although a God— disguised in human form I viewed the world. It would delay us to recount the crimes unnumbered, for reports were less than truth. “I traversed Maenalus where fearful dens abound, over Lycaeus, wintry slopes of pine tree groves, across Cyllene steep; and as the twilight warned of night's approach, I stopped in that Arcadian tyrant's realms and entered his inhospitable home:— and when I showed his people that a God had come, the lowly prayed and worshiped me, but th
P. Ovidius Naso, Metamorphoses (ed. Brookes More), Book 6, line 382 (search)
st and, alas! His life was forfeit; for, they had agreed the one who lost should be the victor's prey. And, as Apollo punished him, he cried, “Ah-h-h! why are you now tearing me apart? A flute has not the value of my life!” Even as he shrieked out in his agony, his living skin was ripped off from his limbs, till his whole body was a flaming wound, with nerves and veins and viscera exposed. But all the weeping people of that land, and all the Fauns and Sylvan Deities, and all the Satyrs, and Olympus, his loved pupil—even then renowned in song, and all the Nymphs, lamented his sad fate; and all the shepherds, roaming on the hills, lamented as they tended fleecy flocks. And all those falling tears, on fruitful Earth, descended to her deepest veins, as drip the moistening dews,—and, gathering as a fount, turned upward from her secret-winding caves, to issue, sparkling, in the sun-kissed air, the clearest river in the land of Phrygia,— through which it swiftly flows between steep banks