erce flame in all her body conceived she
Down in its deepest depths and burning amiddle her marrow.
Ah, with unmitigate heart exciting wretchedmost furies,
Thou, Boy sacrosanct! man's grief and gladness commingling, 95
Thou too of Golgos Queen and Lady of leafy Idalium,
Whelm'd ye in what manner waves that maiden phantasy-fired,
All for a blond-haired youth suspiring many a singulf!
Whiles how dire was the dread she dreed in languishing heart-strings;
How yet more, ever more, with golden splendour she paled! 100
Whenas yearning to mate his might wi' the furious monster
Theseus braved his death or sought the prizes of praises.
Then of her gifts to gods not ingrate, nor profiting naught,
Promise with silent lip, addressed she timidly vowing.
For as an oak that shakes on topmost summit of Taurus 105
Its boughs, or cone-growing pine from bole bark resin exuding,
Whirlwind of passing might that twists the stems with its storm-blasts,
Uproots, deracinates, forthright its trunk to the farthest,
Prone falls, shattering wide what lies in line of its downfall,--
Thus was that wildling flung by Theseus and vanquisht of body, 110
Vainly tossing its horns and goring the wind to no purpose.
Thence with abounding praise returned he, guiding his footsteps,
Whiles did a fine drawn thread check steps in wander abounding,
Lest when issuing forth of the winding maze labyrinthine
Baffled become his track by inobservable error. 115
But for what cause should I, from early subject digressing,
Tell of the daughter who the face of her sire unseeing,
Eke her sister's embrace nor less her mother's endearments,
Who in despair bewept her hapless child that so gladly
Chose before every and each the lively wooing of Theseus? 120
Or how borne by the ship to the yeasting shore-line of Dia
Came she? or how when bound her eyes in bondage of slumber
Left her that chosen mate with mind unmindful departing?
Often (they tell) with heart inflamed by fiery fury
Poured she shrilling of shrieks from deepest depths of her bosom; 125
Now she would sadly scale the broken faces of mountains,
Whence she might overglance the boundless boiling of billows,
Then she would rush to bestem the salt-plain's quivering wavelet
And from her ankles bare the dainty garment uplifting,
Spake she these words ('tis said) from sorrow's deepest abysses, 130
Whiles from her tear