“No more Alcyone; she suffered death With her lov’d lord, when Ceyx lost his breath: No flattery, no false comfort, give me none, My shipwreck’d Ceyx is for ever gone. I saw, I saw him manifest in view, His voice, his figure, and his gestures knew; His lustre lost, and every living grace, Yet I retain’d the features of his face; Though with pale cheeks, wet beard, and dropping hair, None but my Ceyx could appear so fair; I would have strain’d him with a strict embrace, But through my arms he slipp’d, and vanish’d from the place. There, ev’n just there, he stood:” and, as she spoke, Where last the spectre was she cast her look; Fain would she hope, and gazed upon the ground, If any printed footsteps might be found.