ficult travail. For she sat on the crest of Olympus beneath
the golden clouds, by the wile of white-armed Hera, who held her afar in
jealous grudge, because even then fair-tressed Leto was about bearing her
strong and noble son.

But the Goddesses sent forth Iris from the fair-stablished isle, to bring
Eilithyia, promising her a great necklet, golden with amber studs, nine
cubits long. Iris they bade to call Eilithyia apart from white-armed
Hera, lest even then the words of Hera might turn her from her going. But
wind-footed swift Iris heard, and fleeted forth, and swiftly she devoured
the space between. So soon as she came to steep Olympus, the dwelling of
the Gods, she called forth Eilithyia from hall to door, and spake winged
words, even all that the Goddesses of Olympian mansions had bidden her.
Thereby she won the heart in Eilithyia's breast, and forth they fared,
like timid wild doves in their going.

Even when Eilithyia, the helper in sore travailing, set foot in Delos,
then labour took hold on Leto, and a passion to bring to the birth.
Around a palm tree she cast her arms, and set her knees on the soft
meadow, while earth beneath smiled, and forth leaped the babe to light,
and all the Goddesses raised a cry. Then, great Phoebus, the Goddesses
washed thee in fair water, holy and purely, and wound thee in white
swaddling bands, delicate, new woven, with a golden girdle round thee.
Nor did his mother suckle Apollo the golden-sworded, but Themis with
immortal hands first touched his lips with nectar and sweet ambrosia,
while Leto rejoiced, in that she had borne her strong son, the bearer of
the bow.

Then Phoebus, as soon as thou hadst tasted the food of Paradise, the
golden bands were not proof against thy pantings, nor bonds could bind
thee, but all their ends were loosened. Straightway among the Goddesses
spoke Phoebus Apollo: "Mine be the dear lyre and bended bow, and I will
utter to men the unerring counsel of Zeus."

So speaking, he began to fare over the wide ways of earth, Phoebus of the
locks unshorn, Phoebus the Far-darter. Thereon all the Goddesses were in
amaze, and all Delos blossomed with gold, as when a hilltop is heavy with
woodland flowers, beholding the child of Zeus and Leto, and glad because
the God had chosen her wherein to set his home, beyond mainland and
isles, and loved her most at heart.

But thyself, O Prince of the Silver Bow, far-darting Apollo, didst now
pass over rocky Cynt