Cyane

Woman into Water

 

The nymph grieves for the destruction of her spring and the kidnapping of the goddess Proserpine.

 

Soft grow her limbs, and flexile seem her bones;

Her nails their hardness lose. The tenderest parts.

Melt into water long before the rest:

Her tresses green; her fingers, legs, and feet.

Quickly this change the smaller limbs perceive,

To cooling rills transform'd. Next after these,

Her back, her shoulders, breasts, and sides dissolve,

And vanish all in streams. A limpid flood

Now fills the veins that once in purple flow'd;

Nought of the nymph to fill the grasp remains.