Note 213 — Chapter XXI · THE ANTHOLOGY.
Reading edition
Poor Cleariste loosed her virgin zone Not for her wedding, but for Acheron; 'Twas but last eve the merry pipes were swelling, And dancing footsteps thrilled the festive dwelling; Morn changed those notes for wailings loud and long, And dirges drowned the hymeneal song; Alas! the very torches meant to wave Around her bridal couch, now light her to the grave!
J. A. Symonds, M.D.