O'ercome, he fled. He feared to die,565
Though lord of death. Burst with thy hands
The bonds of fate. To those sad souls
In hell let in the light of day,
And to the upper world reveal
An easy path. Once, by his songs
And suppliant prayers, did Orpheus bend
The stubborn lords of hell, when he570
His lost Eurydice would seek.
That art which drew the forest trees,