And to the pyre, if thou dost follow him,
Sure I will myself die with thee, and thus
A double sin will rest upon thy head."
As the fond mother of an only child,
When sick, clings closely to it, and for days
And nights incessant watches it with care,
When he, well versed in all the healing lore,
Gives but to please her hopes of cure complete,
But suddenly the dang'rous malady
New shape assumes, the symptoms serious grow,