And passing through fair Enna’s grove
Beheld Proserpina at play;
He asked, “Will you not take a ride?”
“You’re very kind,” the maid replied,
And stepped into his turn-out swell;
And that was how she went to hell.
For Pluto, whipping up his team,
Sped on toward Tartarus in mirth,
And when opposed by Cyane’s stream,
He took a short-cut through the earth.