Thursday, January 20, 2005

No release for Helios
From his daily drudge,
Nor for his horses, once Dawn
Leaves Ocean for Heaven.
His longed-for bed
Of much-prized gold
By Hephaistos' hands
Beaten hollow,
Carries him on wings
Above the water, deep asleep,
From the Hesperides
To the Æthiops' land,
Where horses and chariot wait
Till early-born Dawn comes,
And Hyperion's son
Must ride another course.