One evening there stirred in his soul the desire to fash-ion the image of "The Happiness That Lasts a Moment," and he went about the world in search of bronze to fashion it, for he could think of nothing but bronze.

But he found no trace of bronze in the whole world. Not a single piece of it was to be found, save the metal from which had been fashioned the image of "The Sorrow That Endures Forever."

This image he himself possessed: he had fashioned it with his own hands and set it upon the grave of the one thing he had loved in his life — upon the grave of that dead one whom he had loved from his heart. He had set there this image of his own making, that it might point to a man's love that does not perish, and stand as a token of a man's sorrow that abides forever. And in all the world there was no metal but the metal of that image.

He took the image he had fashioned and slid it into a great furnace, to be food for the fire. And of the metal of the image of "The Sorrow That Endures Forever" he fashioned the image of "The Happiness That Lasts a Moment."

When Narcissus died, the pool of his delights, with its sweet waters, turned into a lake of salt tears. And the Oreads came weeping through the forest, that they might sing to the lake and console it.

And when the Oreads found that the lake had changed from a cup of sweet water into a cup of salt tears, they loosened the green tresses of their hair and called to the lake, saying: "We do not wonder that you should mourn so for Narcissus, for he was truly beautiful."

And the lake answered: "But was Narcissus beautiful?"

They answered her: Who should know that better than you? He passed us by always, but it was you he sought; he would lie upon your banks and gaze into you, and in the mirror of your waters he saw the reflection of his beauty.

The lake answered: "But I loved Narcissus because, as he lay upon my banks and gazed into me, in the mirror of his eyes the image of my own beauty was ever reflected."