there was once a king, who had three lovely daughters But the youngest, excelled her sisters so greatly that she seemed a goddess Consorting with mere mortals. This is Psyche. Men journeyed to gaze upon her with wonder and adoration They would even say that Venus herself could not equal this mortal. As they thronged to worship her loveliness no one anymore gave thought to Venus herself. Her temples were neglected Her altars foul with cold ashes. So she turned to her son, that beautiful winged youth whom some called Cupid and others Love.