Look, the gentle day Before the wheels of Phoebus, round about Dapples the drowsy east with spots of grey.
In Phebus realm, in knowledge as in verse,All things are clear, the sun of Phoebus clear,Clear was his crystal, the Kastalian.What you cannot clearly say, you don’t know:To tongue of man his thought brings word:What’s said obscurely is what’s thought obscurely.esaias tegnér
Nor shall the marigold unmentioned die, Which Acis once found out in Sicily; She Phoebus loves, and from him draws his hue, And ever keeps his golden beams in view.
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