Faded 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,