Phoebus in purple, glowing With emeralds, and to his left and right Stood Day, Month, Year, Century, and all The Hours at equal distance from each other; Then early Spring with flowers in his hair, And naked Summer with a wreath of wheat, Autumn, whose feet were stained with new-pressed wine, Winter, whose white hair was an icy crown. The Sun sat in the center of the hall; His eyes glanced everywhere and fixed the boy Who stood trembling at the new world he saw, To whom Sun said, “Why here, Phaethon? What do you look for in my aethereal chambers? To meet a father? You, the son no father
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