In the low murmur of her famished cry, And heavy sobs breathed up despairingly, Ye hear the near invisible humming Of his wide wings that fan the lurid sky Into cool ripples of new life and hope, While far in its dissolving ether ope Deeps beyond deeps, of sapphire calm, to cheer With Sabbath gleams the troubled Now and Here.

After this terrible excitement follows the solemn exordium to her father's story, "The hour's now come; The very minute bids thee ope thine ear.

Cras forsan fies, pulvis et umbra levis, Quid tibi opes prosunt?

"Qui timet ut sua sit, ne quis sibi subtrahat illam, Ille Machaonia vix ope salvus est.