Clytie, the story of the first sunflower
Based on the Myth passed on through the ages to which men turned to explain the existence of the lovely Sunflower…
“Oh sun,
sweet sun,” cried Clytie dear,
“Would
that I had my lover near!
Apollo
owns my heart,
From
him I’d ne’er depart!
But,
alas, he cares not for me.”
“I sit
and watch the sun pass by,
And
would to god that I’d but die!
If
he’d but look my way…
My
grief would fly away…
But,
alas, he cares not for me.”
There
Clytie sat, so young and sweet,
And
not one inch did move her feet –
Upon
the sun her eyes
Were
fixed from rise to rise…”
“But,
alas, he cares not for me.”
So long
she sat, arms by her side,
Her
undivided love denied,
Her
limbs grew in the ground,
Her
ears echoed one sound:
“But,
alas, he cares not for me.”
Her face
a lovely flow’r became,
And
now grow millions more the same,
Her
eyes t’word heaven gaze…
So
fixed throughout her days…
“But,
alas, he cares not for me.”
“Oh sun,
sweet sun,” cried Clytie dear,
“Would
that I had my lover near!
Apollo
owns my heart,
From
him I’d ne’er depart!
But,
alas, he cares not for me.”
H.
L. Gradowith
09-28-2001
Gradowiths
Homepage