He, sitting on a rock That overlooked a green Thessalian field Where grazed the flocks, clad in a leopard’s skin, His crook beside him, dreamed of wide Olympus: “This hour the muses dance, the Council sits And there is high debate, or Hera storms For Zeus’ absence; there is life, and I Unknown, alone, a shepherd by this field Of pastoral pathos labor all the day.” And then a step disturbed his revery; And looking up he saw a slender maid White as gardenias, jonquil-haired, with eyes As blue as Peneus when he meets the sea. And an old weakness crept upon the god. For ever in his soul there shone the face Of woman, like the face of Artemis, His virgin sister, delicate and chaste; And to o’ercome such whiteness and reserve Had been Apollo’s madness from his birth. And this Chione, daughter of the soldier, Servitor of the gods and rich in land At once became his passion. So he rose And to Chione spoke, and she, to him. And then anon she saw the unkept curls Sun-bleached, that touched his shoulders, then his breast, Smooth as her own, and then his arms, his hands His shapely knees, his firm and pointed feet, And her eyes closed as stars beneath the dawn And dawn rose in her cheeks. And the god knew Her inmost thought. So all that day they played, Amid the wind-blown light of Thessaly. He wove her traps for crickets from the grass, And from the willow branches made her flutes; He caught her butterflies, and sang her runes Of living things, and how the earth and sea From Erebus and Love sprang into being; And how the sun, and the bright pageant of the stars Dance joyously to music. And Chione Was dumb for happiness; and the day went by. But with the dusk there came a swooning languor, All was forgotten save the shepherd’s face Held close to hers, and round his moving curls The circled splendor of the sickle moon-- Nor eyes, nor lips, only a golden blur. And rousing she beheld the enshadowed field Flockless and silent, and the shepherd gone. Then through the night Chione weakly walked And found at last her home. The light of day Brought terror to Chione. Then she sought And found Apollo where he sat before And told him that her father, the old soldier, Was favored of Admetus, and would bring The royal power against him, if he failed The troth of wedlock. And Apollo mused Upon his exile from Olympus’ throne, And Zeus’ wrath against him, that he slew The Cyclops, and upon his shepherd state Tending Admetus’ flocks, and how unknown And weak he stood between these kingly hands Of Zeus and of Admetus. And seeing her fair, More fair in tears, he gave her his consent.