Classic Poem

Thrice Dido try'd to raise her drooping Head,
And fainting thrice, fell grov'ling on the Bed.
Thrice op'd her heavy Eyes, and sought the Light,
But having found it, sicken'd at the sight;
And clos'd her Lids at last, in endless Night.
Then Juno , grieving that she shou'd sustain
A Death so ling'ring, and so full of Pain;
Sent Iris down, to free her from the Strife
Of lab'ring Nature, and dissolve her Life.
For since she dy'd, not doom'd by Heav'ns Decree,
Or her own Crime; but Human Casualty;
And rage of Love, that plung'd her in Despair;
The Sisters had not cut the topmost Hair;
Which Proserpine , and they can only know;
Nor made her sacred to the Shades below.
Downward the various Goddess took her flight;
And drew a thousand Colours from the Light:
There stood above the dying Lover's Head,
And said, I thus devote thee to the dead.
This Off'ring to th'Infernal Gods I bear:
Thus while she spoke, she cut the fatal Hair;
The strugling Soul was loos'd; and Life dissolv'd in Air.