West Wind
Ay, but what followed was lovelier far. Every wave fell; the sea donned her robe of peace to speed them on their way; we winds made holiday and joined the train, all eyes; fluttering Loves skimmed the waves, just dipping now and again a heedless toe—in their hands lighted torches, on their lips the nuptial song; up floated Nereids—few but were prodigal of naked charms—and clapped their hands, and kept pace on dolphin steeds; the Triton company, with every seacreature that frights not the eye, tripped it around the maid; for Posidon on his car, with Amphitrite by him, led them in festal mood, ushering his brother through the waves. But, crowning all, a Triton pair bore Aphrodite, reclined on a shell, heaping the bride with all flowers that blow.
So went it from Phoenice even to Crete. But, when he set foot on the isle, behold, the bull was no more; ’twas Zeus that took Europa’s hand and led her to the Dictaean Cave—blushing and downward-eyed; for she knew now the end of her bringing. But we plunged this way and that, and roused the still seas anew.
South Wind
Ah me, what sights of bliss! and I was looking at griffins, and elephants, and blackamoors!
