Would not have Nyx and Chione
wished too for love, light and joy
For doesn't darkness forebode sadness
as does cold; death and loneliness
Yet out of night births day, brightness
And dreams, love's pleasures, friendship
The cold bearing one who initiates into
after-life mysteries; makes songs, music
Still, even goddesses and nymphs succumb.
They yield, conform and in loneliness; spawn strife,
pain, death. The other, one who prophesies,
holding tight to deference, the social moral order
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