]
Thou didst not taste the food of Erebus;--
Offspring of Gods art thou,--nor Hell, nor Jove
Shall tear thee from thy Mother's clasping arms.
_Pros._ If fate decrees, can we resist? farewel!
Oh! Mother, dearer to your child than light,
Than all the forms of this sweet earth & sky, [25]
Though dear are these, and dear are my poor nymphs,
Whom I must leave;--oh! can immortals weep?
And can a Goddess die as mortals do,
Or live & reign where it is death to be?
Ino, dear Arethuse, again you lose
Your hapless Proserpine, lost to herself
When she quits you for gloomy Tartarus.
_Cer._ Is there no help, great Jove? If she depart
I will descend with her--the Earth shall lose
Its proud fertility, and Erebus
Shall bear my gifts throughout th' unchanging year.
Valued till now by thee, tyrant of Gods!
My harvests ripening by Tartarian fires
Shall feed the dead with Heaven's ambrosial food.
Wilt thou not then repent, brother unkind,
Viewing the barren earth with vain regret,
Thou didst not shew more mercy to my child?
_Ino._ We will all leave the light and go with thee,
In Hell thou shalt be girt by Heaven-born nymphs,
Elysium shall be Enna,--thou'lt not mourn
Thy natal plain, which will have lost its worth
Having lost thee, its nursling and its Queen.
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