If the plains below were dry and dark colored and dusty with the warmth of summer, on Mount Latmus all was so still and cool, so fresh and green, that one appeared to be in a different universe.
The mountain was most lovely of all at night, when the moon drove her chariot overhead, and overwhelmed each tree and all the grassy slants with her pale light.
Endymion was a young shepherd who drove his flocks high up on the sides of this mountain and let them peruse on the rich pasturage along the edges of its snow-bolstered streams.
He cherished the pure mountain air, and the stillness of the higher slants, which was broken just by the tinkle of his sheep-bells, or the tune of birds.
There he imagined his days away, while his sheep and goats were sustaining, he inclined his head on a log or an overgrown stone and laid down with the flock.
Selene, the moon-goddess, wanted to visit Mount Latmus; indeed, the mountain had a place, in some sense, to her.
It was her impact that made everything there so tranquil and excellent. One night, when she had stolen down from her place in the sky for a stroll through one of the flowery knolls of Mount Latmus, she discovered Endymion there snoozing.
The shepherd looked as delightful as any flower on the mountain, or as the swans which were drifting in the lake adjacent, with their heads tucked under their wings.
If he had not been for his customary breathing, Selene would have trusted that she stood taking a gander at a marble statue.
There, at a little distant, lay his sheep and goats, unguarded, and obligated to be assaulted by wild brutes. Goodness, Endymion was an exceptionally thoughtless shepherd! That was the impact of the air on Mount Latmus.
Selene realized that it was the brilliant air of her mountain which had made the shepherd remiss, and in addition excellent, in this manner she remained by his flock all night and watched it herself.
She came the following night and the following, and for a long time, to look at the sleeper, and to watch the unguarded flock.
One morning, when she came back to the sky, she looked so pale from her watching that Jupiter asked her where she had been, and she portrayed the wonderful shepherd she had found on her mountain, and admitted that she had been guarding his sheep.
She asked of Jupiter that since Endymion was, extremely beautiful he may dependably look as she had seen him in his rest, rather than growing old as other mortals.
Jupiter replied,
"Indeed, even the gods can't provide for mortals everlasting youth and magnificence without giving them additionally everlasting rest, yet Endymion shall rest perpetually and be always young."
So there, in a cave, on Mount Latmus, Endymion mulls over right up 'til today; and his great magnificence has not blurred in the smallest degree, but rather is a joy still to all who can climb those grandiose statures.
