To-day I have fled from the Mountain; and never again As a god shall I roam by the fountain or sing in the glen. The new gods be mute, if they heard me; nor glory nor fire Hath leapt from my music and stirred me, so broken my lyre. I cried to Latona who bore me -- she answered me not: Diana hath perished before me, and dark is the spot Where silent the laurel-maid broodeth forgiving but cold -- @3O Clytie, once so forsaken . . . dost weep as of old?@1 Yea, Daphne I left in the meadow, unmoved of my pain. To me she is sunlight and shadow, star-sweetness and rain: (But, all through the years when I loved her, who never loved me, Such, then, was the pain my forgetting had meted to thee?) I could not remember thee only, with her at my side -- Yet I might have pitied thee lonely, and made for thy pride Brief kindness, to spare thee thy sighing; or wreaths for thy brow . . . @3O Clytie, Clytie, Clytie, where art thou now?@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO BE CLOSELY WRITTEN ON A SMALL PIECE OF PAPER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE SHEPHERDESS by ALICE MEYNELL HUNTING: OPENING by JULIANA BERNERS NOT YET by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT EPIGRAM: 31. LOVE'S CAPRICIOUSNESS by CALLIMACHUS |