And there had the maiden beyond her weird her own death wrought {20}
By tasting of poison; and Hêrê’s purpose had come to nought,
But for this, that the Goddess stirred her to flee in her panic dread
With Phrixus’ sons. So her fluttering spirit was comforted
In her breast; and into her bosom in eager haste did she pour
All mingled her spell-drugs and poisons, her casket’s deadly store.
And she kissed her bed, and her hands on the walls with loving caress
Lingered: she kissed the posts of the doors; and one long tress
She severed, and left it her bower within, for her mother to be
A memorial of maidenhood’s days, and with passionate voice moaned she: