But when a poet gets into the habit of using his heartstrings to make chords for his lyre , he may thrum upon them as much as he will , without any great pain to himself . Accordingly , though Phoebus sang a very sad song , he was as merry all the while as were the sunbeams amid which he dwelt . Poor Mother Ceres had now found out what had become of her daughter , but was not a whit happier than before . Her case , on the contrary , looked more desperate than ever . As long as Proserpina was above ground , there might have been hopes of regaining her . But now that the poor child was shut up within the iron gates of the king of the mines , at the threshold of which lay the three-headed Cerberus , there seemed no possibility of her ever making her escape . The dismal Hecate , who loved to take the darkest view of things , told Ceres that she had better come with her to the cavern , and spend the rest of her life in being miserable . Ceres answered , that Hecate was welcome to go back thither herself , but that , for her part , she would wander about the earth in quest of the entrance to King Pluto 's dominions . And Hecate took her at her word , and hurried back to her beloved cave , frightening a great many little children with a glimpse of her dog 's face as she went . Poor Mother Ceres ! It is melancholy to think of her , pursuing her toilsome way , all alone , and holding up that never-dying torch , the flame of which seemed an emblem of the grief and hope that burned together in her heart . So much did she suffer , that , though her aspect had been quite youthful when her troubles began , she grew to look like an elderly person in a very brief time . She cared not how she was dressed , nor had she ever thought of flinging away the wreath of withered poppies , which she put on the very morning of Proserpina 's disappearance . She roamed about in so wild a way , and with her hair so disheveled , that people took her for some distracted creature , and never dreamed that this was Mother Ceres , who had the oversight of every seed which the husbandman planted . Nowadays , however , she gave herself no trouble about seed time nor harvest , but left the farmers to take care of their own affairs , and the crops to fade or flourish , as the case might be . There was nothing , now , in which Ceres seemed to feel an interest , unless when she saw children at play , or gathering flowers along the wayside . Then , indeed , she would stand and gaze at them with tears in her eyes . The children , too , appeared to have a sympathy with her grief , and would cluster themselves in a little group about her knees , and look up wistfully in her face ; and Ceres , after giving them a kiss all round , would lead them to their homes , and advise their mothers never to let them stray out of sight . `` For if they do , '' said she , `` it may happen to you , as it has to me , that the iron-hearted King Pluto will take a liking to your darlings , and snatch them up in his chariot , and carry them away . '' One day , during her pilgrimage in quest of the entrance to Pluto 's kingdom , she came to the palace of King Cereus , who reigned at Eleusis .
Ascending a lofty flight XXXXX steps , she entered the portal , and found the royal household in very great alarm about the queen 's baby .
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