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Updated: May 28, 2025
On! high-throned upon the mane of a mighty billow fifty cubits beneath me the level of the hissing waters; above me the inky sky! It was done! The spar was torn from me, and, dragged downwards by the weight of the bag of gold and the clinging of my garments, I sank struggling furiously.
Now I call on high-throned Klotho and her sister Fates to draw nigh unto the praying of the man I love. And upon you also, golden-charioted seed of Aiakos, I say it is clear law to me to shed the dew of my good words, what time I set my foot upon this isle.
Before that high-throned poet-soul Adela bent in humble reverence. Between Stella and those toilers, however noble and devoted, there could be no question of comparison. She was of those elect whose part it is to inspire faith and hope, of those highest but for whom the world would fall into apathy or lose itself among subordinate motives.
I cannot divine what it meaneth, This haunting nameless pain: A tale of the bygone ages Keeps brooding through my brain: The faint air cools in the glooming, And peaceful flows the Rhine, The thirsty summits are drinking The sunset's flooding wine; The loveliest maiden is sitting High-throned in yon blue air, Her golden jewels are shining, She combs her golden hair;
Pallid fear lay hold on him. My valiant members tremble. The old man heard, his mind confus'd with dread, So grievously he fear'd that every hair Upon his bended head did stand on end. According to these passages for "feared" he says "frozen" and "fear" he calls "freezing." Evil effects, he distinguishes in these ways. But Jove, high-throned, the soul of Ajax filled with fear.
I cannot divine what it meaneth, This haunting nameless pain: A tale of the bygone ages Keeps brooding through my brain: The faint air cools in the glooming, And peaceful flows the Rhine, The thirsty summits are drinking The sunset's flooding wine; The loveliest maiden is sitting High-throned in yon blue air, Her golden jewels are shining, She combs her golden hair;
Gliding grace distinguished her when she walked. Her motion was equable. As once the sons of God saw the daughters of men that they were fair, and straightway coveted them, even so Bertram Ingledew looked on Frida Monteith, and saw at the first glance she was a woman to be desired, a soul high-throned, very calm and beautiful.
And to him again spake wind-footed fleet Iris: "It was Hera that sent me, the wise wife of Zeus, nor knoweth the high-throned son of Kronos nor any other of the Immortals that on snowy Olympus have their dwelling-place." And Achilles fleet of foot made answer to her and said: "And how may I go into the fray?
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