Their branches hang denuded of their fruits;110
And where but late the Isthmus echoed back
The loud resounding waters near at hand,
Their neighboring waves by but a narrow span
Dividing, now have all the waves withdrawn
Far seaward, and their voice is faintly heard
Upon the shore. Now Lerna backward shrinks,115
The streams of Inachus have hidden away,
The sacred Alpheus sends his waters forth
No longer, and Cithaeron lifts no more