(ll. 19-32) He caught her up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting.  Then she cried out shrilly with her voice, calling upon her father, the Son of Cronos, who is most high and excellent.  But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit:  only tender-hearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave, and the lord Helios, Hyperion’s bright son, as she cried to her father, the Son of Cronos.  But he was sitting aloof, apart from the gods, in his temple where many pray, and receiving sweet offerings from mortal men.  So he, that Son of Cronos, of many names, who is Ruler of Many and Host of Many, was bearing her away by leave of Zeus on his immortal chariot —­ his own brother’s child and all unwilling.

(ll. 33-39) And so long as she, the goddess, yet beheld earth and starry heaven and the strong-flowing sea where fishes shoal, and the rays of the sun, and still hoped to see her dear mother and the tribes of the eternal gods, so long hope calmed her great heart for all her trouble....  ((LACUNA)) ....and the heights of the mountains and the depths of the sea rang with her immortal voice:  and her queenly mother heard her.

(ll. 40-53) Bitter pain seized her heart, and she rent the covering upon her divine hair with her dear hands:  her dark cloak she cast down from both her shoulders and sped, like a wild-bird, over the firm land and yielding sea, seeking her child.  But no one would tell her the truth, neither god nor mortal men; and of the birds of omen none came with true news for her.  Then for nine days queenly Deo wandered over the earth with flaming torches in her hands, so grieved that she never tasted ambrosia and the sweet draught of nectar, nor sprinkled her body with water.  But when the tenth enlightening dawn had come, Hecate, with a torch in her hands, met her, and spoke to her and told her news: 

(ll. 54-58) `Queenly Demeter, bringer of seasons and giver of good gifts, what god of heaven or what mortal man has rapt away Persephone and pierced with sorrow your dear heart?  For I heard her voice, yet saw not with my eyes who it was.  But I tell you truly and shortly all I know.’

(ll. 59-73) So, then, said Hecate.  And the daughter of rich-haired Rhea answered her not, but sped swiftly with her, holding flaming torches in her hands.  So they came to Helios, who is watchman of both gods and men, and stood in front of his horses:  and the bright goddess enquired of him:  `Helios, do you at least regard me, goddess as I am, if ever by word or deed of mine I have cheered your heart and spirit.  Through the fruitless air I heard the thrilling cry of my daughter whom I bare, sweet scion of my body and lovely in form, as of one seized violently; though with my eyes I saw nothing.  But you —­ for with your beams you look down from the bright upper air Over all the earth and sea —­ tell me truly of my dear child, if you have seen her anywhere, what god or mortal man has violently seized her against her will and mine, and so made off.’