The Water-Nymphs Clytie

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Clytie and her sister, Leucothea, were water nymphs. Early every morning they used to come up from the profundities of their river, with different nymphs from neighboring streams and fountains, and dance among the water-plants on its shores.

On the first rays of the rising sun, all the dancers dove once more into the water and vanished, for that was the law among water-nymphs.

One morning Clytie and Leucothea infringed upon this law. At the point when the sun started to appear over the slopes, and all alternate nymphs surged back to their streams, these two sat on the bank of their river, and looked for the happening to the sun-god.

At that point as Helios drove his horses over the sky, they sat and watched him all day long. They thought they had never observed anything so eminent.

The god sat in his golden chariot with his crown on his head, and kept a firm rein on the four firebreathing horses. The sisters were astonished by the sparkle of the chariot and the brilliance of the jeweled crown.

Helios grinned upon them, and they were glad. At the point when night came, they came back to their river, where they could consider nothing else except for Helios and his golden chariot.

Before morning they tumbled to quarreling, as sisters now and again will. At that point Clytie revealed to King Oceanus how Leucothea had overstepped the law of the water-nymphs, yet she didn't state that she herself had broken it too.

King Oceanus was extremely irate, and quiet Leucothea down in a cave. Just before sunlight, Clytie ran up to dance with alternate nymphs, obviously, and again she stayed on the shore all day to watch the Sun.

This time Helios would not favor her, since he knew she had been unkind to her sister.

At the point when night came, she went poorly to her home at the base of the river, however sat on its sandy bank, sitting tight for the happening to the Sun, and when he came back once more, she watched him, all day, et cetera for nine days and nine nights.

As she had infringed upon the law, she didn't set out to go home, accordingly she didn't have anything to live on however the dew which tumbled from the sky.

She grew so thin that you would have figured the breeze may overwhelm her. Silly Clytie!

However, she sat there and watched the Sun, who never glanced toward her, and never favored her any more.

Finally her dainty feet, that had danced so softly with alternate nymphs, flourished in the free sand, her vacillating pieces of clothing ended up plainly green leaves, and her face, which was always moved in the direction of the Sun, turned into a flower.

This flower grows in various wet and sandy places in the world, and still turn its stem gradually facing towards the sun.