-18) Apart from Demeter, lady of the golden sword and glorious
fruits, she was playing with the deep-bosomed daughters of Oceanus and
gathering flowers over a soft meadow, roses and crocuses and beautiful
violets, irises also and hyacinths and the narcissus, which Earth made
to grow at the will of Zeus and to please the Host of Many, to be a
snare for the bloom-like girl--a marvellous, radiant flower. It was a
thing of awe whether for deathless gods or mortal men to see: from its
root grew a hundred blooms, and it smelled most sweetly, so that all
wide heaven above and the whole earth and the sea's salt swell laughed
for joy. And the girl was amazed and reached out with both hands to take
the lovely toy; but the wide-pathed earth yawned there in the plain of
Nysa, and the lord, Host of Many, with his immortal horses sprang out
upon her--the Son of Cronos, He who has many names [2505].

(ll. 19-32) He caught her up reluctant on his golden car and bare her
away lamenting. Then she cried out shrilly with her voice, calling upon
her father, the Son of Cronos, who is most high and excellent. But no
one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice,
nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tender-hearted Hecate,
bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave,
and the lord Helios, Hyperion's bright son, as she cried to her father,
the Son of Cronos. But he was sitting aloof, apart from the gods, in his
temple where many pray, and receiving sweet offerings from mortal men.
So he, that Son of Cronos, of many names, who is Ruler of Many and
Host of Many, was bearing her away by leave of Zeus on his immortal
chariot--his own brother's child and all unwilling.

(ll. 33-39) And so long as she, the goddess, yet beheld earth and starry
heaven and the strong-flowing sea where fishes shoal, and the rays of
the sun, and still hoped to see her dear mother and the tribes of
the eternal gods, so long hope calmed her great heart for all her
trouble.... ((LACUNA)) ....and the heights of the mountains and the
depths of the sea rang with her immortal voice: and her queenly mother
heard her.

(ll. 40-53) Bitter pain seized her heart, and she rent the covering upon
her divine hair with her dear hands: her dark cloak she cast down from
both her shoulders and sped, like a wild-bird, over the firm land and
yielding sea, seeking her child. But no one would tell her the truth,
neither god nor mortal