A Book of Myths, by Jean Lang - Umnet

like a ship driven on by the long oars of mariners who knew well the
path to home through the watery ways. From far away in the grey it
hasted towards her, and then there came to Halcyone the knowledge
that no ship was this thing, but a lifeless body, swept onwards by the
hurrying waves. Nearer and nearer it came, until at length she could
recognise the form of this flotsam and jetsam of the sea. With heart that
broke as she uttered the words, she stretched out her arms and cried
aloud: "O Ceyx! my Beloved! is it thus that thou returnest to me?"
To break the fierce assaults of sea and of storm there had been built out
from the shore a mole, and on to this barrier leapt the distraught
Halcyone. She ran along it, and when the dead, white body of the man
she loved was still out of reach, she prayed her last prayer--a wordless
prayer of anguish to the gods.
"Only let me get near him," she breathed. "Grant only that I nestle close
against his dear breast. Let me show him that, living or dead, I am his,
and he mine forever."
And to Halcyone a great miracle was then vouchsafed, for from out of
her snowy shoulders grew snow-white pinions, and with them she
skimmed over the waves until she reached the rigid body of Ceyx,
drifting, a helpless burden for the conquering waves, in with the
swift-flowing tide. As she flew, she uttered cries of love and of longing,
but only strange raucous cries came from the throat that had once only
made music. And when she reached the body of Ceyx and would fain
have kissed his marble lips, Halcyone found that no longer were her
own lips like the petals of a fair red rose warmed by the sun. For the
gods had heard her prayer, and her horny beak seemed to the watchers
on the shore to be fiercely tearing at the face of him who had been king
of Thessaly.
[Illustration: A GREY COLD MORNING FOUND HER ON THE
SEASHORE]
Yet the gods were not merciless--or, perhaps, the love of Halcyone was
an all-conquering love. For as the soul of Halcyone had passed into the
body of a white-winged sea-bird, so also passed the soul of her husband