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.
TO HORTALUS LAMENTING A LOST BROTHER.Albeit care that consumes, with dule assiduous grieving,Me from the Learnèd Maids (Hortalus!) ever seclude,Nor can avail sweet births of the Muses thou to deliverThought o' my mind; (so much floats it on flooding of ills:For that the Lethe-wave upsurging of late from abysses,Lavèd my brother's foot, paling with pallor of death,He whom the Trojan soil, Rhoetean shore underlying,