Fight all that are or e’er shall be!’
She ceased, and with her heart debates
How best to leave the life she hates.
Then to Sichæus’ nurse she cried
(For hers erewhile at Tyre had died):—
‘Good nurse, my sister Anna bring:
O’er face and body bid her fling
Pure drops from lustral bough:
So sprinkled come, and at her side
The victims lead: you too provide