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When the mother ceased from her wild  wandering toil, searching for the treacherous rape of her daughter, she crossed the snow-capped heights of the nymphs of Mount Ida;  and in sorrow cast herself down in the rocky woods deep in snow; and, by not making fruitful with crops the barren fields of the earth for mortals, she destroyed the human race.  She would not send forth the rich nourishment of leafy tendrils for the herds, and life was leaving the cities. No sacrifice was offered to the gods, and on the altars were no cakes to burn;  she made the dew-fed springs of clear water cease flowing, the avenger in sorrow for her child.