“Uncertain from what hand, a flying dart At Cyllarus was sent, which pierced his heart. The javelin drawn from out the mortal wound, He faints with stagg’ring steps, and seeks the ground: The fair within her arms received his fall, And strove his wandering spirits to recall; And while her hand the streaming blood opposed, Join’d face to face, his lips with hers she closed. Stifled with kisses, a sweet death he dies: She fills the fields with undistinguish’d cries; At last her words were in her clamour drown’d; For my stunn’d ears received no vocal sound. In madness of her grief, she seized the dart New drawn, and reeking from her lover’s heart; To her bare bosom the sharp point applied, And wounded fell; and falling by his side, Embraced him in her arms; and thus embracing died.