Our timeless amaranth. ’Twas writ of old, and lay
Not once with us. As we ourselves have known,
And well your sad Dodonian mother found,
From deep to deep the sails of destined love
Are blown and tossed by tides no god controls;
And at the bud of our too golden life
Eats this small canker of mortality!
I loved her once, O Ares—
I loved her once as waters love the wind;
I sought her once as rivers seek the sea;