The father, now no more a father, cries.

Ho, Icarus! where are you? as he flies:

Where shall I seek my boy? he cries again.

And saw his feathers scattered on the main.”

“The soft’ning wax, that felt a nearer sun, Dissolv’d apace, and soon began to run. The youth in vain his melting pinions shakes, His feathers gone, no longer air he takes. O father, father, as he strove to cry, Down to the sea he tumbled from on high. And found his fate; yet still subsists by fame, Among those waters that retain his name. The father, now no more a father, cries. Ho, Icarus! where are you? as he flies: Where shall I seek my boy? he cries again. And saw his feathers scattered on the main.”