Over the |mountain a|loft ran a |rush and a |roll and a |roaring;
Downward the |breeze came in|dignant, and |leapt with a |howl to the |water,
Roaring in |cranny and |crag, till the |pillars and |clefts of the |basalt
Rang like a |god-swept |lyre, and her |brain grew |mad with the |noises;
Crashing and |lapping of |waters, and |sighing and |tossing of |weed-beds,
Gurgle and |whisper and |hiss of the |foam, while |thundering |surges
Boomed in the |wave-worn |halls, as they |champed at the |roots of the |mountain.

Hour after |hour in the |darkness the |wind rushed |fierce to the |landward,
Drenching the |maiden with |spray; she |shivering, |weary and |drooping,
Stood with her |heart full of |thoughts, till the |foam-crests |gleamed in the |twilight,
Leaping and |laughing a|round, and the |east grew |red with the |dawning.

Then on the |ridge of the |hills rose the |broad bright |sun in his glory,
Hurling his |arrows a|broad on the |glittering |crests of the |surges,
Gilding the |soft round |bosoms of |wood, and the |downs of the |coastland,
Gilding the |weeds at her |feet, and the |foam-laced |teeth of the |ledges,
Showing the |maiden her |home through the |veil of her |locks, as they |floated
Glistening, |damp with the |spray, in a |long black |cloud to the |landward.

High in the |far-off |glens rose |thin blue |curls from the |homesteads;
Softly the |low of the |herds, and the |pipe of the |out-going |herdsman,
Slid to her |ear on the |water, and |melted her |heart into |weeping.

Shuddering, she |tried to for|get them; and |straining her |eyes to the |seaward,
Watched for her |doom, as she |wailed, but in |vain, to the |terrible |Sun-god.

‘Dost thou not |pity me, |Sun, though thy |wild dark |sister be |ruthless,
Dost thou not |pity me |here, as thou |seest me |desolate, |weary,
Sickened with |shame and de|spair, like a |kid torn |young from its |mother?

What if my |beauty in|sult thee, then |blight it: but |me— Oh |spare me!
Spare me yet, ere he be |here, fierce, |tearing, un|bearable! |See me,
See me, how |tender and |soft, and thus |helpless! |See how I |shudder,
Fancying |only my |doom. Wilt thou |shine thus |bright, when it |takes me?

Are there |no deaths |save this, |great Sun? |No fiery |arrow,
Lightning, or |deep-mouthed |wave? Why |thus? What |music in |shrieking,
Pleasure in |warm live |limbs torn |slowly? And |dar’st thou be|hold them!
Oh, thou hast |watched worse |deeds! All |sights are a|like to thy |brightness!
What if thou |waken the |birds to their |song, dost thou |waken no |sorrow;
Waken no |sick to their |pain; no |captive to |wrench at his |fetters?

Smile on the |garden and |fold, and on |maidens who |sing at the |milking;
Flash into |tapestried |chambers, and |peep in the |eyelids of |lovers,
Showing the |blissful their |bliss—Dost |love, then, the |place where thou |smilest?
Lovest thou |cities a|flame, fierce |blows, and the |shrieks of the |widow?
Lovest thou |corpse-strewn |fields, as thou |lightest the |path of the |vulture?
Lovest thou |these, that thou |gazest so |gay on my |tears, and my |mother’s,
Laughing a|like at the |horror of |one, and the |bliss of a|nother?

What dost thou |care, in thy |sky, for the |joys and |sorrows of mortals?
Colder art |thou than the |nymphs: in thy |broad bright |eye is no |seeing.
Hadst thou a |soul—as much |soul as the |slaves in the |house of my |father,
Wouldst thou not |save? Poor |thralls! They |pitied me, |clung to me |weeping,
Kissing my |hands and my |feet—What are |gods, more |ruthless than |mortals?
Worse than the |souls which they |rule? Let me |die: they |war not with |ashes!’