And strains apart the swelling veins. 190
Now quick convulsions rend and tear
The inmost vitals.
Now to their burning hearts they strain
Cold stones to soothe their agony;
And they, whom laxer care permits,
Since they who should control are dead,
The fountains seek, and feed their thirst 195
With copious draughts. The smitten throng
All prostrate at the altars lie