Then did the brother drench his hands in brotherly bloodshed,Stinted the son in heart to mourn decease of his parents,Longèd the sire to sight his first-born's funeral convoySo more freely the flower of step-dame-maiden to rifle;After that impious Queen her guiltless son underlying,Impious, the household gods with crime ne'er dreading to sully—All things fair and nefand being mixt in fury of evilTurned from ourselves avert the great goodwill of the Godheads.Wherefor they nowise deign our human assemblies to visit,Nor do they suffer themselves be met in light of the day-tide.