Fury of a furnace, as to re-make
A broken heart, or back to life surprise
Killed fondness.—On earth she fixed sullen eyes;
Moved by his prayers no more than by a smile
Of Venus would be cliff on Paros’ isle.
At last, though long his sad remorse pursued,
Gathering her strength, she regained the wood.
Their route resumed, they reached a land where air
Had a stir as of life; hither repair
War lords; here the heroes of old fights meet—