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She came when first the starry lyre Tinged the green wave with kindling fire; "Come, sister," sang they, "to thy place:" The Pleiad gazed, then hid her face. Slowly that lyre rose while they sung,— Alas! there is one chord unstrung. It rose, until 's ear No longer could its music hear. She sought the fountain, and flung there The crown that bound her raven hair; The starry crown, the sparkles died, Darkening within its fated tide. She sinks by that lone wave:—'tis past; There the lost Pleiad breathed her last. No mortal hand e'er made her grave; But one pale rose was seen to wave,