Lives by Cecropia doomed to burials burying nowise;Then with a swifty ship and soft breathed breezes a-stirring,Sought he Minos the Haughty where homed in proudest of Mansions.Him as with yearning glance forthright espied the royalMaiden, whom pure chaste couch aspiring delicate odoursCherisht, in soft embrace of a mother comforted all-whiles,(E'en as the myrtles begot by the flowing floods of Eurotas,Or as the tincts distinct brought forth by breath of the springtide)Never the burning lights of her eyes from gazing upon himTurned she, before fierce flame in all her body conceived sheDown in its deepest depths and burning within her marrow.Ah, with unmitigate heart exciting wretchedmost furies,You, Boy sacrosanct! man's grief and gladness commingling,You too of Golgos Queen and Lady of leafy Idalium,Whelm'd you in what manner waves that maiden fantasy-fired,All for a blond-haired youth suspiring many a singulf!Whiles how dire was the dread she dreed in languishing heart-strings;How yet more, ever more, with golden splendour she paled!Whenas yearning to mate his might with the furious monsterTheseus braved his death or sought the prizes of praises.Then of her gifts to gods not ingrate, nor profiting naught,Promise with silent lip, addressed she timidly vowing.For as an oak that shakes on topmost summit of TaurusIts boughs, or cone-growing pine from bole bark resin exuding,Whirlwind of passing might that twists the stems with its storm-blasts,Uproots, deracinates, forthright its trunk to the farthest,Prone falls, shattering wide what lies in line of its downfall,—Thus was that wildling flung by Theseus and vanquisht of body,Vainly tossing its horns and goring the wind to no purpose.Thence with abounding praise returned he, guiding his footsteps,While a fine drawn thread checked steps in wander abounding,Lest when issuing forth of the winding maze labyrinthineBaffled become his track by inobservable error.But for what cause should I, from early subject digressing,Tell of the daughter who the face of her sire unseeing,Eke her sister's embrace nor less her mother's endearments,Who in despair bewept her hapless child that so gladlyChose before every and each the lively wooing of Theseus?Or how borne by the ship to the yeasting shore-line of Dia