Did thy strong spells drive me from heaven, that thou in the rayless night {60}
Unhindered might’st work thy sorceries, deeds that are aye thy delight.
Now thou too hast part in the same infatuate passion, I trow,
And a god of affliction hath made this Jason a torment and woe
Unto thee! Pass on, and harden thine heart, be thou never so wise,
To take up thy burden of anguish, thy doom full-fraught with sighs.’
So spake she; but swiftly the maid’s feet bare her, as onward she strained;
And glad was she when the height of the bank of the river she gained.
And overagainst her beheld the splendour of fire: nightlong
For joy of the trial triumphant they fed it, the hero-throng.