es upon the harmonious flute,(1) lead off our
anapaests.(2)

Weak mortals, chained to the earth, creatures of clay as frail as the
foliage of the woods, you unfortunate race, whose life is but darkness,
as unreal as a shadow, the illusion of a dream, hearken to us, who
are immortal beings, ethereal, ever young and occupied with eternal
thoughts, for we shall teach you about all celestial matters; you shall
know thoroughly what is the nature of the birds, what the origin of
the gods, of the rivers, of Erebus, and Chaos; thanks to us, even
Prodicus(3) will envy you your knowledge.

At the beginning there was only Chaos, Night, dark Erebus, and
deep Tartarus. Earth, the air and heaven had no existence. Firstly,
black-winged Night laid a germless egg in the bosom of the infinite
deeps of Erebus, and from this, after the revolution of long ages,
sprang the graceful Eros with his glittering golden wings, swift as the
whirlwinds of the tempest. He mated in deep Tartarus with dark Chaos,
winged like himself, and thus hatched forth our race, which was the
first to see the light. That of the Immortals did not exist until Eros
had brought together all the ingredients of the world, and from their
marriage Heaven, Ocean, Earth and the imperishable race of blessed gods
sprang into being. Thus our origin is very much older than that of the
dwellers in Olympus. We are the offspring of Eros; there are a thousand
proofs to show it. We have wings and we lend assistance to lovers. How
many handsome youths, who had sworn to remain insensible, have not been
vanquished by our power and have yielded themselves to their lovers when
almost at the end of their youth, being led away by the gift of a quail,
a waterfowl, a goose, or a cock.(4)

And what important services do not the birds render to mortals! First
of all, they mark the seasons for them, springtime, winter, and autumn.
Does the screaming crane migrate to Libya,--it warns the husbandman
to sow, the pilot to take his ease beside his tiller hung up in his
dwelling,(5) and Orestes(6) to weave a tunic, so that the rigorous cold
may not drive him any more to strip other folk. When the kite reappears,
he tells of the return of spring and of the period when the fleece of
the sheep must be clipped. Is the swallow in sight? All hasten to sell
their warm tunic and to buy some light clothing. We are your Ammon,
Delphi, Dodona, your Phoebus Apollo.(7) Before undertaking anything,
whether a busi