shadow, and black Night has stolen the colour from 15
Nature’s face. There before the threshold, in the very
mouth of Hell, Agony and the fiends of Remorse have made
their lair: there dwell wan Diseases, and woful Age, and
Terror, and Hunger that prompts to Sin, and loathly
Want—shapes of hideous view—and Death, and Suffering; 20
then comes Sleep, Death’s blood-brother, and the
soul’s guilty joys, and deadly War couched in the gate,
and the Furies’ iron chambers, and frantic Strife, with
bloody fillets wreathed in her snaky hair.