The thing writhed horribly, and burst aflame
As soon as Phoebus warmed it with his rays.
Oh, 'tis a dreadful portent that I tell!
As when the snows on Mimas' sparkling sides
Are melted by the genial breath of spring;730
As on Leucadia's crags the heaving waves
Are dashed and break in foam upon the beach;
Or as the incense on the holy shrines
Is melted by the warming altar fires:
So did the woolen fragment melt away.735