To choose her a murderous drug, and to taste oblivion of pain.
And the eager fingers now of the hapless maid ’gan part
The bands of the casket, to take it forth—but, with sudden start,
With an awful fear of Hades the hateful shuddered her heart. {810}
Long spellbound sat she in speechless horror: around her thronged
Visions of all sweet things for the which through life she had longed.
She thought of the hours delightsome the lot of the living that fill,
And she thought of her merry playmates, even as a maiden will.
And sweeter than ever was grown the sun unto her to behold—
No marvel, seeing she yearned for all so passionate-souled!