with burning stars. From that clime, I have heard of a
priestess of the Massylian race, once guardian of the
temple of the Hesperides, who used to give the dragon his
food, and so preserve the sacred boughs on the tree, sprinkling
for him moist honey and drowsy poppy-seed. She,
by her spells, undertakes to release souls at her pleasure,
while into others she shoots cruel pangs; she stops the
water in the river-bed, and turns back the stars in their 5
courses, and calls ghosts from realms of night. You will
see the earth bellowing under you, and the ashes coming