Clytie
There was once a Nymph named Clytie, who fell in love with Apollo as he drove his bright chariot through the skies. She gazed at him as he rose in the east attended by the rosy-fingered Dawn and the dancing Hours. She kept watching as he climbed high into the skies. She looked on in wonder in the waning light as he guided his steeds to the many-colored pastures where they fed all night on ambrosia.
But Apollo did not see Clytie. He rather, fell in love with her sister, the White Nymph Leucothoe. She fell into a great depression and was full of grief.
Night and day Clytie sat weeping. She did not eat, drink or sleep--but watched Apollo as he moved across the heavens.
The gods took pity upon her. Her body rooted to the ground--green leaves appeared where her arms and hands once were. Her lovely face was concealed by tiny flowers, sweet with perfume. Her love for Apollo never waned. Even to this day she turns her flower face toward the sun--following its rise and decent across the skies.
But men no longer call her Clytie, rather she is known as the Sunflower.
But Apollo did not see Clytie. He rather, fell in love with her sister, the White Nymph Leucothoe. She fell into a great depression and was full of grief.
Night and day Clytie sat weeping. She did not eat, drink or sleep--but watched Apollo as he moved across the heavens.
The gods took pity upon her. Her body rooted to the ground--green leaves appeared where her arms and hands once were. Her lovely face was concealed by tiny flowers, sweet with perfume. Her love for Apollo never waned. Even to this day she turns her flower face toward the sun--following its rise and decent across the skies.
But men no longer call her Clytie, rather she is known as the Sunflower.
