Max F. Klepper (modern).
Phaëthon driving Apollo’s Chariot.
Sometimes they came so near the earth that the leaves [!-- original location of illustration --] and grass withered, the crops were all destroyed, and the streams disappeared. Then they turned so far away that snow fell, and the people shivered and suffered from the cold.
All the people on earth were afraid, and even the gods on high Olympus wondered what was amiss with Apollo, that his horses were so unruly.
Finally Jupiter looked over the heavens, and, seeing the reckless Phaëthon, hurled a thunderbolt at him, and he fell headlong into the river Po.
Hither every day came his sisters, the Heliades, wringing their hands and weeping for their beloved brother. At length the gods changed them into poplar trees, and their tears into amber.
Phaëthon’s dearest friend, Cygnus, was continually plunging into the river, hoping to find the body of the rash youth, and he was changed into a swan. This bird now sails mournfully upon the waters, frequently dipping his head below the surface, as if still searching for his friend Phaëthon.
WINGS.
Wings that flutter in sunny air;
Wings that dive and dip and dare;
Wings of the humming bird flashing by;
Wings of the lark in the purple sky;
Wings of the eagle aloft, aloof;
Wings of the pigeon upon the roof;
Wings of the storm bird swift and free,
With wild winds sweeping across the sea:
Often and often a voice in me sings,—
O, for the freedom, the freedom of wings!