Executed his difficult solo. In vain were their gambols and dances!
High o’er the Thracian hills rose the voice of the shepherdess, wailing—
“Ai! for the fleecy flocks,—the meek-nosed, the passionless faces;
Ai! for the tallow-scented, the straight-tailed, the high-stepping;
Ai! for the timid glance, which is that which the rustic, sagacious,
Applies to him who loves but may not declare his passion!”
Her then Zeus answered slow: “O daughter of song and sorrow,—
Hapless tender of sheep,—arise from thy long lamentation!
Since thou canst not trust fate, nor behave as becomes a Greek maiden,
Look and behold thy sheep.”—And lo! they returned to her tailless!