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