Page:The Soul of a Century.djvu/150

 Then to your father, you sped, Clythia, Complained to him about your sister’s love, And in his rage, the angered aged king Ordered his daughter be entombed alive, The black-haired, pale and fair Leucothea, To still your jealousy and cleanse the family name. Then longingly you waited, Clythia, Upon the hill where once he used to come And had to come The God did not return.

At length you saw his golden chariot Pass gloriously across the grey-blue skies, And you gazed after him so sadly, longingly, That your eyes and head grew feeble with fatigue. He came and passed on toward the distant sea; He went his way but you waited still in vain.

The evening chills cast dew drops in your hair Whose gold was ruffled by the evening winds, But you cared not and waited  waited on. You feebly turned your weary, yearning head Yon where the pink-tinged Morning Star prepared To open wide the heaven’s shining gates

Again he rode across the azure path And after him you turned your aching head Trying to capture with a saddened eye Just one bright look from out the skies above. But all in vain He sped toward the distant sea And disappeared and you waited still in vain.

He pitied you and with compassion which Is only alms for Love that was and fled, He changed you to a golden floweret, The fate of mortals who had aught to do With the Gods who ruled upon Olympus’ heights. But deep within you. Love lived on for e’er; Your golden head kept turning on its stem Seeking your lover’s golden chariot.

O Clythia no longer does he trespass Across the heavens in his chariot, Your faithless lover, light haired Hellius. Though God immortal, he too has passed away,