Halcyon

Hear my tale now, and sigh on
The fate of those who became halcyon,
Ceyx, son of the morning star,
And Halcyone who pursued him far.

Once, in a time when love could still honored be
Above all other things, there lived by the sea
A king named Ceyx. He was Hesperus's son,
And such goodness and gravity lived in his face
That Halcyone all full of grace
Declared him her heart's chosen one.
They married, and lived by the side of the sea,
And each morning they smiled on the water,
Ceyx and his wife, the wind-god's daughter.

But slowly and slowly, over time-
For reasons that fall outside this rhyme-
Ceyx began to dream of Phoebus's isle.
He must, he at last accepted,
Sail to that place where Python is resurrected
In murmurings, with an austere smile,
By the Delphic oracle old in rhyme.
He broke this news gently to his wife,
Who was at once in wild fear of his life.

"My father Ĉolus, king of all the airs,
Has taught me there are seasons when no one dares
To venture out upon the waters!
Reconsider, my lord, I beg of you,
Or my tears shall fall like the morning's dew.
My heart shall go to a thousand slaughters."
So she begged and wept; not even Demeter dares,
Who mourns her daughter in winter's hall,
To claim that fairer tears she ever let fall.

But Ceyx must sail, and "Two turns of the moon,"
He said, "I shall be gone; I shall come back soon.
And then and then- ah, then, my love,
The gods and the winds both may rage,
But not the thickness of a page
Shall come between us- not even the gods above."
He kissed her gently, and left soon,
And Halcyone stood watching him go away,
Her face fair in mourning that day.

And she walked by the water's edge, and prayed
(For she was a half-divine and loving maid)
That Ceyx might come back safe to her.
Day after day she watched the roaring sea,
And tried to forget that, at her father's knee,
She had learned the strength of winds of winter.
She waited for him, that slowly-paling maid,
Loveliest of all sights even in her fading,
The waves and the airs with sweet prayers lading.

And then one night she woke in her bed,
And saw her Ceyx there, and he smiled and said,
"Oh, my lady, that I had listened to you!
For our ship foundered on the way to the isle.
To drown took me but a short while.
I came only to make sure that you knew,
To end hopeless hoping, as Hera said."
Then he smiled again and was gone, a ghost:
All that remained of Ceyx, her love and lost.

The next day, half-hoping it had been a dream,
She walked on the shore, and let the sun gleam
In the ringlets of her flowing hair.
It was a bitter day, heartbreakingly sweet,
For the waters to bear to her feet
What the gods commanded that day they bear.
She saw the golden morning star catch and gleam
On something the sea had held in ward.
To the shore came the body of her lord.

Then she cried out a deep and tearing lament,
And from her body into the air her soul went,
Growing, as it sped across the waves, wings.
It landed upon the corpse of her beloved,
Drowned, he was, long drained of blood.
Halcyone bowed her head, and things
She whispered to him of how her life went
Without him, while he lay in the waters black.
She pleaded with all her heart that he come back.

And then- something moved from his dead lips
That drew breath again in smallest sips,
And from his body flew a bird,
Glittering colors in his wings,
As glorious as in Halcyone's rings.
She cried; he answered her with a word,
And they left the place where in sips
They had been accustomed to drink wine.
They were borne away on a wind divine.

But that was not the extent of the gods' compassion.
For one week each winter, in miraculous fashion,
The water of the sea grows calm,
And the halcyon puts her eggs to nest,
Bears her children on the snowy breast
Of the water that was bane, now balm.
They have repayment in this fashion,
Halcyone and Ceyx, who no more mortal things
Know now, but fly on heaven-given wings.

You have heard my tale; you may sigh on
The fate of those who became halcyon,
Ceyx, son of the morning star,
And Halcyone who pursued him far.