“I can refuse you nothing, my own Philomela,” answered the fond old man, smiling upon her through his tears. […] They soon came to a thicket of tall trees, through which the sun’s rays rarely penetrated, and proceeded to the dismal house within. […] Acteon did not know he had entered a consecrated grove, and he fell asleep there, through weariness. […] He rose with renewed vigour, and pursued his way, like some migratory bird, through immeasurable fields of ether, leaving, in his flight, nations and cities behind him. […] Upon a map of Greece, the river Peneus may be seen in Thessaly, passing through the Vale of Tempe, and pouring its waters into the Egean sea.