But when she gave the horror birth, and, grief-worn, cherished it, And doomed her death, then with herself she planned its time and guise, And to her sister sorrowing sore spake word in such a wise, Covering her end with cheerful face and calm and hopeful brow: "Kinswoman, I have found a way, (joy with thy sister now!) Whereby to bring him back to me or let me loose from him. Adown beside the setting sun, hard on the ocean's rim, 480 Lies the last world of Æthiops, where Atlas mightiest grown Upon his shoulder turns the pole with burning stars bestrown. A priestess thence I met erewhile, come of Massylian seed, The warden of the West-maid's fane, and wont the worm to feed, Mingling for him the honey-juice with poppies bearing sleep, Whereby she maketh shift on tree the hallowed bough to keep. She by enchantment takes in hand to loose what hearts she will, But other ones at need will she with heavy sorrows fill; And she hath craft to turn the stars and back the waters beat, Call up the ghosts that fare by night, make earth beneath thy feet 490 Cry out, and ancient ash-trees draw the mountain-side adown. Dear heart, I swear upon the Gods, I swear on thee, mine own And thy dear head, that I am loath with magic craft to play. But privily amid the house a bale for burning lay 'Neath the bare heaven, and pile on it the arms that evil one Left in the chamber: all he wore, the bridal bed whereon My days were lost: for so 'tis good: the priestess showeth me All tokens of the wicked man must perish utterly." No more she spake, but with the word her face grew deadly white. But Anna sees not how she veiled her death with new-found rite, 500 Nor any thought of such a deed her heart encompasseth; Nor fears she heavier things to come than at Sychæus' death. Wherefore she takes the charge in hand.