O Muses, sing of sweet Love's song composed for handsome Phoebus,
shining, radiant one who caught Cupid's attention.
Even before Apollon's ascent to high Olympus,
that grand abode of all the heavenly ones,
the ordeals of love have been a bane and favour to men and gods.
Winged Eros wielded his wondrous bow against that
powerful sorceress who dwelt in distant Colchis to aid glory-destined
Jason. But Love proved to be Semele's fiery undoing
when the desire he lit beneath her mortal breast
was stoked by white-armed Hera.
Then in another instance he bid Zeus pursue heifer-faced Io
whom our Cyllenian king freed from the hundredfold gaze
of the giant Argos. How pleasant it seemed then when Hermes
of fleet foot assisted in the work of Love.
But you beautiful Muses who reside near the clear blue waters
of the springs of holy Helicon know
that it was Maia's glorious son who spurred the beginning of this tale.

Glorious was the grand palace that sat atop Olympus. Homer said that neither rain nor snow dared to fall upon its marble floors and that the strongest winds touched not its halls. So Apollon rested his silver bow upon its gilded rack and looked over the balustrade wrought of smooth stone and looked over all of Greece.

"Wherefore do you gaze upon the expanse of the wide Earth, Apollon?" asked Eros, wings carrying him beside his radiant companion.

Phoebus smiled upon his companion and stroked his fair cheek. "The games of my oracular city begin soon and its citizens have begun their traditions. Eternal gratitude they hold for me for I defeated monstrous Python, offspring of age-old Gaia and plague upon the peoples of Krisa."

"I see the act before me!" exclaimed Eros as he happened upon the theatre where an unbearded youth in his prime slew the false Python in reverent re-enactment.

Apollon was pleased by the performance. "Watch as he goes before my sacred tree and fashions from its hardy foliage a crown."

As the two gods looked on, Hermes, bearing his winged sandals, flew behind them. "Is that to be the prize presented to the victors?" asked that sneaky son of Maia. "Surely a city as prosperous as yours would have a better prize."

"I thought so, too," agreed winged Eros.

But the far-shooter only smiled at his fellow gods before returning his gaze upon his beloved city. "The victors need not nor want not prizes of gold or silver. For to receive the crown of laurels dear to my heart is to receive my blessings and the renown of the world," he exclaimed with deserved pride.

"Will you be giving your favour to the athletes of the gymnasium?" Eros asked Hermes, observing the young men massaging oil onto to their skin.

The great messenger of Zeus thought for a moment. "I shall not. These men have built and sculpted their bodies into strong and lithe forms. Should they win my half-brother's competitions, it shall be because of their skill and not our intervention."

"Well said, Hermes," Apollon said. "Glory is theirs to be earned. Let them prove it so that we and the wide world may deem them worthy of praise."

Hermes joined the two in gazing upon ancient Delphi. "What a joyous time to be mortal, to be able to compete in such fun games and earn glory."

"Does the urge to enter the stadium and compete seize you?" asked Apollon to his godly brother.

Hermes nodded. "Very much so. But, alas, it would be unfair. What chance have these mere mortals against the god who presides over all athletics?"

As Cupid watched two youths spar lightly against each other, an idea struck him. "Why not compete against me? I am no mortal." He flitted about the two of them, excited by the idea of further impressing bright-eyed Phoebus. Such handsome youths they were, Eros and Hermes, that all of Olympus would have come to watch them wrestle.

Both Apollon and Hermes laughed lightly.

"Such a jester you are, young god," Hermes said. "It would still be unfair. I am much stronger than you without your bow and maddening arrows. And your flaming torch has no place in the stadium."

"You have no beard upon your chin either, Hermes," Eros said, crossing his arms and turning from Hermes. "You are not much older than I and our bodies are both lithe and strong."

"Come now," Apollon said, stroking Love's soft, white plumes and holding his hand. "What Hermes says is true. Though I have learned to respect your true and powerful aim, you have no experience in the games of the stadium."

"Unless he and cup-bearing Ganymedes whom Zeus picked from the Earth have been racing chariots all this time," Hermes joked.

"Joke not, Hermes, lest you wish an unwelcome desire cloud your mind," Apollon warned as he led Eros back towards his half-brother to speak to them both. "Though I have a solution if you would hear it."

Cupid smiled at his companion. "Let us hear it." Hermes nodded in agreement.

"The Pythian Games are renowned through all of Greece for the athletic games but my city also hosts musical competitions. Compose for me a song, one each, and I shall gather judges and descend upon the theatre of Delphi. There you two shall compete and a verdict will be reached."

"What say you, son of golden Aphrodite?" Hermes asked, picking up his wand and fastening his sandals.

"I shall compose a grander song than you and all the world shall hear," Eros answered.

So the two gods bid each other farewell as Hermes flew off to attend to Zeus before composing his song. Cupid remained beside Apollon, thinking of what to sing about.

"Tell me, Apollon," Eros said, "What should I sing about that I may please your ears?"

"I cannot tell you that, Love," Apollon said, pushing away a stray curl as Eros' head fell downcast. "It would be unfair to Hermes, don't you think?" When the winged god sighed sadly, Apollo picked up his companion and sat him upon his lap. "Whatever you write will please me."

Very much did Love's pearly teeth shine at that declaration. "True it must be then for you cannot lie!" He embraced Apollon with all his strength before leaping from the grand palace atop Olympus and flying down towards the Earth.

His feathered wings took him across the lands of Greece. He watched all manner of man, woman, and child travelling with their families and friends towards the sacred hills of Delphi. Whether they be from the fearsome city of Sparta who defended Thermopylae or the city of Athens whose citizens fled to holy Salamis to escape the advancing Persians. Citizens from rich Corinth and Hera's favoured Argos did he see, as well. And some from even distant palatial Knossos and the Hellespont where he is worshipped.

But his wings eventually took him to the holy mount of Helicon near the city that received his blessings most of all. There he spotted the Muses, all nine, playing sweet music and dancing with their graceful feet barely touching the grass of the Earth. He landed near them and they greeted him with smiles and welcoming waves.

"What brings the fair son of laughter-loving Aphrodite to our sacred mount?" asked Erato, extending her hand so that she may invite Cupid to their fold. "Have you come to dance with us?"

"Oh, look at how the god's cheek turns the colour of roses," Thalia said, sitting down next to the blushing young god. "Be not shy, gentle Cupid. We shall teach you how to dance if you do not know how."

"Being surrounded by such talented goddesses makes me bashful," Eros confessed as the Muses sat with him to their center.

A merry laugh bloomed from them and the air was filled with a pleasant sound.

"Do not be bashful," Clio said, "We delight in the presence of an audience."

"Hush your gentle cooing and let the boy speak his mind," Melpomene said.

Cupid nodded and addressed them. "O grand Muses, you are the goddesses who inspire all mortals in their works. With your help, Homer has recounted the history of years before him even though he was blind. With Lord Apollon you grace the halls of Olympus with your delightful music and all the gods cannot help but rejoice and be merry. I ask for your assistance in a task: I must compete with Hermes for the approval of lyre-bearing Apollon."

"Wherefore must you compete? He already adores you," said Polyhymnia. "You should hear the songs he composes about you and for you! How strongly you have seized his heart."

Urania nodded and addressed the winged god with a smile. "He would rearrange entire constellations in the heavens to build you a starry temple so that all men may know Love."

"I did not know this," Eros said, gleeful at the thought of Apollo thinking about him when they are apart during their godly errands.

"We would be happy to assist Apollon's beloved. What may we help you with?" asked Calliope.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you, all nine, would help me compose a song for Pythian Apollo as an entry for the contest in his games. I hope to convey my adoration for him as he has done."

Enterpe spoke up with delight, "What a joyous occasion these games are that even the immortal ones seek Apollon's prize."

"Let the mortals who bear witness to our greatness never forget that Eros who bears the mad fires of desire has been so taken by our beloved Delian god," Terpsichore declared. "Not even Hermes who invented and gifted to Apollo the first lyre stands a chance."

As Eros was about to rejoice, he suddenly despaired. "I did not know that Hermes was talented at the realm of music, as well. I had thought the chances were even since we would not compete in the gymnasium."

"Of course not," Thalia said, placing her soft hand on Cupid's knee in a gesture of comfort. "The odds are in your favour because you have come to us."

"Come," Calliope said, pulling the winged god to his feet and leading him with them to the clearing where moments ago they were dancing. "Let us begin Love's Song."

And so it was that the Muses of Helicon brought to Cupid their many implements and instruments.

From Clio's unfurled scroll she read of the heroic exploits of the Lycian god who defended veiled Leto's honor when boastful Niobe challenged her twin godly offspring.

Erato with her lyre whose strings produce honeyed sounds set the tune for Euterpe and Polyhymnia who sang a hymn to Delian Apollon and recounted the tale of his birth where all the goddesses of heaven attended to Leto. Vengeful Hera took Eileithyia captive but swift-footed Iris delivered her to the rocky isle of Delos where shining Phoebus was born.

From her soft chiton, Melpomene fashioned a costume in the shape of princely Hyacinthus and acted out his death at the hands of jealous Zephyrus who threw to his fair head a deadly discus.

Then Thalia and Terpsichore took to the center dancing with their dainty feet, showing Cupid the fate of fast-running Daphne whom he stabbed with a leaden arrow.

A frown dared to grow on his comely face until Urania handed to him a globe of the heavenly sphere and pointed to stars above and told him that the heavens support his noble endeavor.

Finally, Calliope beckoned Eros to her and handed to him a stylus and her stone tablet. She guided his young hands into holding the implements properly and, before long, words started to flow from his hand.

So it came to pass that Eros sang of the romantic exploits of the gods in heaven. The fruitful union of Gaia and Ouranus first and foremost, that fateful pair who produced the towering Titans. Then of the mother of gods, Rhea of the lion-flanked throne, and her husband, scythe-bearing Cronus. From that noble couple came the first of the Olympians. And finally Cupid's notes turned as he plucked new strings of his lyre while he sang of Leto and thundering Zeus.

Through their divine union the world received the arrow-shooting, twin Letoides: Artemis born first, then finally handsome Phoebus whom all of Greece revere. And finally, Eros stirred the patriotic hearts of the Delphians with the story of Apollon's heroic exploits against Python and the foundations of the games he himself was competing in.

The crowd at the theatre of Delphi rejoiced at the sight of the gods who descended onto their hilly city to judge the contest and were delighted at the start, middle, and conclusion of Cupid's song. Were they the judges, they would've declared a winner right then. But Apollon held the central seat at the judges' booth and to his right was ivy-crowned Dionysus to be judge with him. To the left was Hestia of ever-burning and peerless fire.

Eros left the stage and sat near his mother, the lovely Cyprian queen, who embraced her son. With her came his brothers comely Himeros and Anteros who protects friendships and they likewise gave him their sincere adulations as if he had already won.

But then Hermes took to the stage and presented his wand and the audience was enraptured. He began to sing and all were surprised at the handsome voice of Maia's son. They were treated to tales of distant lands that no Greek had yet seen. To countries beyond India where the men live in golden cities hidden by jungles. To distant isles beyond the frontier in Gaul where cave-dwellers were. To the distant north, perhaps those Hyperboreans, where men travel their cold seas in ships of alien shape. Further still, to a land in the east called Seres where the people have learned to make cloth from worms.

Then he produced a lyre, as well, and sang that though his travels took him far along the wide world, he always returned to Hellas where everyone yearned to go. To Athens to learn in their academies of rhetoric. To Olympia to pay tribute to the King of Gods rendered in chryselephantine form. To Rhodes to marvel at their grand statue of hard won bronze. To Lesbos to hear Sappho recite her lovely poems. And also to Delphi to hear the will of grand Zeus through his son the prophet who gave the world the gift of oracles.

Such a command over language did Hermes possess that the crowd was won over, as well. Hermes thanked the crowd for listening to his tale and addressed the judges, "You have heard what I and fair Love have had to say. But it is clear from the citizens who has won the contest."

And two of the judges had their decisions already made. Dionysus gave his vote to Eros whose use of rhyme impressed him. Hestia voted for Hermes to be victor as she considered his lyrework superior and more pleasing to the ears. And finally Apollon stood to declare the winner.

"Fortune smiles upon this fair city, chosen today to be stage to our godly competition. The gods have decided the victor of our contest." Apollon held the crown of laurels before him. "To Hermes, son of Maia and our chief Zeus who bears the aegis. You are the victor of this contest."

The crowd cheered as the luck-bringer was crowned by their luminous prince. Upon seeing the crown of laurels being placed upon Hermes' head, winged Love fled from his seat distraught.

Hermes waved to the crowd, his godly smile as radiant as the sun, but happened upon the other winged gods departing. He turned to Phoebus and said, "Make haste and chase after your beloved. Youth elevates the agony of loss. He may be thinking you favour me over him and you should tell him it is not so."

Apollon nodded to his half-brother and clasped his strong shoulder. "You have earned your prize and my thanks."

So did Apollon leave Delphi and its exciting crowd behind to search for Cupid. But his way was blocked by Anteros' golden club.

"Wherefore do you race after the one you have deemed the loser? Are you not satisfied with his sorrow that you must pursue him from the low earth to the high heavens?" asked Eros' brother, created for him as playmate and companion.

"You misunderstand the verdict and I have no time to explain it to you," Apollon said in turn. "Tell me where my fair Love has gone."

"He is with Desire in the marble-wrought temple at Thespiae."

So to the temple he went, as fast as his two feet could take him. Before long, he saw the city that worshipped Eros foremost amongst all the blessed gods and the temple where his most ancient image dwelt. And there did he see Himeros comforting his weeping brother.

The sight made Apollon's heart ache with pain. "At last, I have found you," Apollon said, relief washing over him.

"It is best you leave us be," Himeros said, turning an angry glare at their visitor. "He does not wish to see you."

Eros wiped the tears from his rosy cheeks and shook his head. "No, brother. I pray you leave us be. Lord Apollon and I have much to speak of."

Reluctantly did Desire leave his brother behind. But he obeyed him nonetheless and the two gods were left alone at the temple.

"You left so quickly I had no chance to congratulate you," began Phoebus.

"Am I to be congratulated? The one you deemed not the winner?" Eros asked, leaning his head on his arm as he rested against the steps leading to the adyton. "You said whatever I sang would please you. Did you lie?"

Apollon approached the younger good and knelt beside him. "You know I cannot lie. And I did not. I enjoyed very much the song you composed for me."

"Then why was Hermes the victor?" Eros asked, trying to walk away from Apollon's handsome face.

But the Delphic god held on to Cupid's hand and stopped him. "I enjoyed your song but Hermes' was simply a superior songwrite. If I had given to you the crown of laurels, it would have been a misjudgment."

"Do you love him more than I?"

"Of course, I do not," Apollon answered imploringly. "No one has so claimed my heart as you have." He pulled the young god with him as he stood up. "I hope you did not see this as a verdict of my affections."

"It felt that way," was Cupid's answer.

"So foolish were you then," said radiant Phoebus as he stroked his thumb against Eros' smooth cheek.

Eros signed. "The passions easily take me. I had thought since you had not approved that you have deemed me no longer worthy of you."

"I am still awed that you have deemed me worthy of you," the older god pointed out.

"I suppose I do not need those leaves of bay to know that you love me most amongst all the gods."

Apollon pressed a kiss against Love's pink lips. "No, you do not."