He heard their last alternative resolved:
High beat his bosom—with such fear subdued,
Beneath the gloom of some enchanted wood,
Oft in old time the wandering swain explored
The midnight wizards, breathing rites abhorred;
Trembling, approached their incantations fell,
And, chilled with horror, heard the songs of hell.
Arion saw, with secret anguish moved,
The deep affliction of the friend he loved,
And all awake to Friendship’s genial heat