Not caught Ermao net

Ringed with the flowerlike Six of the Seven, arrayed and anointed

Ever with beautiful pity, she watches, she weeps, and she wanes,

Blind as a flame on the hills of the Winter in hours appointed

For the life of the foam and the thunder - the strength of the imminent rains.

Who hath a portion, Alcyone, like her? Asterope, fairer

Than sunset on snow, and beloved of all brightness, say what is there left

Sadder and paler than Pleione's daughter, disconsolate bearer

Of trouble that smites like a sword of the gods to the break of the heft?