The root thereof as flesh new-severed was crimson-red.
And the blood thereof, like a mountain-oak’s dark sap, in a shell
From Caspian strand she gathered, to weave thereof a spell,
When seven times she had bathed her in waters unresting that glide, {860}
And seven times upon Brimo the Nursing-mother had cried—
Night-wandering Brimo, the Underworld Goddess, the Queen of the dead—
And in dusky vesture clad through the blackness of night did she tread.
And the dark earth shuddered and quaked deep down with muttering moan,
As the Titan root was severed; yea, and Iapetus’ son
In frenzy of heart-wringing agony groaned a fearful groan.