The first days of their union were spent in blissful wanderings, hand in hand, under the cool forest shade; in weaving garlands of fragrant flowers; and in refreshing themselves with the luscious fruit, which hung so temptingly within reach. […] The statue became so beautiful under his practised hand that even before it was entirely finished its author loved it. […] From this circumstance he often appears with a key in his right hand and a rod in his left; or, when he presides over the year, he holds the number 300 in one hand and 65 in the other. […] He wore a crown of poppies on his head, and held a goblet full of poppy juice in his languid hand. […] He was a hideous, cadaverous-looking deity, clad in a winding-sheet, and held an hour-glass and a scythe in his hand.