In mere felicity above the world In peace alive and moving, where to stir Is ecstasy, and thrilling is repose,[112] immortal, scattering joy without intermission, lighting the world, bringing bliss to struggling men and sorrowing women, dispelling shadows and shadowy fear. Then Idas, humbly,-- "After such argument what can I plead? Or what pale promise make? Yet since it is In women to pity rather than to aspire, A little will I speak." And he tells her simply that he _loves_ her,--loves her not only for her beauty, but "Because Infinity upon thee broods; And thou art full of whispers and of shadows;--" and because her voice is music, her face mystery beyond his power to comprehend; "O beauty lone and like a candle clear In this dark country of the world! Thou art My woe, my early light, my music dying." And Marpessa?-- As he was speaking, she with lips apart Breathed, and with dimmer eyes leaned through the air As one in dream, and now his human hand Took in her own; and to Apollo spoke,-- saying that she knew how sweet it might be forever with a god to aid suffering men and women and "gild the face that from its dead looks up"; but still she feared immortality, for, though dying not, she must grow old, and her god lover would tire of her when once her youth was faded. And as for that "existence without tears for evermore" which he promised,-- "Yet I being human, human sorrow miss. The half of music, I have heard men say, Is to have grieved." To sorrow she was born. It is out of sadness that men have made this world beautiful. If she chooses Idas, then they two will prosper together, grow old together, and last descend into the "natural ground," and "leave behind a wholesome memory on the earth." When she had spoken, Idas with one cry Held her, and there was silence; while the god In anger disappeared. Then slowly they, He looking downward, and she gazing up, Into the evening green wandered away. =91. Clytie.=[113] In the story of Clytie the conditions are reversed. She was a water-nymph and in love with Apollo, who made her no return. So she pined away, sitting all day long upon the cold ground with her unbound tresses streaming over her shoulders. Nine days she sat, and tasted neither food nor drink,--her own tears and the chilly dew her only sustenance. She gazed on the sun when he rose; and as he passed through his daily course to his setting, she saw no other object,--her eyes fixed constantly on him. At last, they say, her limbs took root in the ground and her face became a flower, turning on its stem to follow the journeying sun. In the following lines, Thomas Moore uses the flower as an emblem of constancy: The heart that has truly loved never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close; As the sunflower turns on her god when he sets The same look that she turned when he rose.