Book IX, 437

Goatherd, on turning the corner of that path where the oaks are, thou shalt find a newly carved image made of a fig-bough, three forked, with the bark still on, without ears, but able with its generative phallus to do the work of Aphrodite. Round it is a most holy hedge, and a perennial stream issuing from the rocks feeds on all sides abundance of laurel, myrtle, and sweet-scented cypress, round which curl the tendrils of the vine, mother of the grape. In spring the shrill song of the blackbirds echoes here with its varied notes, and the brown nightingales pour from their throats their honeyed voice in response. Sit here and pray to kind Priapus to make me fall out of love with Daphnis, and sacrifice at once to him a fine kid. But if he grants the prayer I will offer him in return three sacrifices. I will kill him a heifer, a shaggy billy-goat, and the stalled lamb I have. May the god be benevolent and grant it.