Æn. IV.
ÆNEIS.
455
And rage of Love, that plung'd her in Despair, 1000
The Sisters had not cut the topmost Hair;
Which Proserpine, and they can only know;
Nor made her sacred to the Shades below.
Downward the various Goddess took her flight;
And drew a thousand Colours from the Light: 1005
Then stood above the dying Lover's Head,
And said, I thus devote thee to the dead.
This Off'ring to th' Infernal Gods I bear:
Thus while she spoke, she cut the fatal Hair;
The strugling Soul was loos'd; and Life dissolv'd in Air. 1010
The Sisters had not cut the topmost Hair;
Which Proserpine, and they can only know;
Nor made her sacred to the Shades below.
Downward the various Goddess took her flight;
And drew a thousand Colours from the Light: 1005
Then stood above the dying Lover's Head,
And said, I thus devote thee to the dead.
This Off'ring to th' Infernal Gods I bear:
Thus while she spoke, she cut the fatal Hair;
The strugling Soul was loos'd; and Life dissolv'd in Air. 1010
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