Well shall I wot boon Time sets you returning before me."Such were the mandates which stored at first in memory constantFaded from Theseus' mind like mists, compelled by the whirlwind,Fleet from aerial crests of mountains hoary with snow-drifts.But as the sire had sought the citadel's summit for outlook,Wasting his anxious eyes with tear-floods evermore flowing,Forthright e'en as he saw the sail-gear darkened with dye-stain,Headlong himself flung he from the sea-cliff's pinnacled summitHolding his Theseus lost by doom of pitiless Fortune.Thus as he came to the home funest, his roof-tree paternal,Theseus (vaunting the death), what dule to the maiden of MinosDealt with unminding mind so dree'd he similar dolour.She too gazing in grief at the kelson vanishing slowly,Self-wrapt, manifold cares revolved in spirit perturbed.ON ANOTHER PART OF THE COVERLETBut from the further side came flitting bright-faced IacchusGirded by Satyr-crew and Nysa-reared SileniBurning with love unto thee (Ariadne!) and greeting thy presence. Who flocking eager to fray did rave with infuriate spirit,"Evoe" frenzying loud, with heads at "Evoe" rolling.Brandisht some of the maids their thyrsi sheathed of spear-point,Some snatcht limbs and joints of sturlings rended to pieces,These girt necks and waists with writhing bodies of vipers,Those with the gear enwombed in crates dark orgies ordained—Orgies that ears profane must vainly lust for o'er hearing—Others with palms on high smote hurried strokes on the cymbal,Or from the polisht brass woke thin-toned tinkling music,While from the many there boomed and blared hoarse blast of the horn-trump,And with its horrid skirl loud shrilled the barbarous bag-pipeShowing such varied forms, that richly-decorated couch-clothFolded in strait embrace the bedding drapery-veiled.This when the Thessalan youths had eyed with eager inspectionFulfilled, place they began to provide for venerate Godheads,Even as Zephyrus' breath, seas couching placid at dawn-tide,Roughens, then stings and spurs the wavelets slantingly fretted—Rising Aurora the while 'neath Sol the wanderer's threshold—