Cocytus' black and stagnant oozeMust welcome you, and Danaus' seedIll-famed, and ancient SisyphusTo never-ending toil decreed.Your land, your house, your lovely brideMust lose you; of your cherish'd treesNone to its fleeting master's sideWill cleave, but those sad cypresses.Your heir, a larger soul, will drainThe hundred-padlock'd Caecuban,And richer spilth the pavement stainThan e'er at pontiff's supper ran.Few roods of ground the piles we raiseWill leave to plough; ponds wider spreadThan Lucrine lake will meet the gazeOn every side; the plane unwedWill top the elm; the violet-bed,The myrtle, each delicious sweet,On olive-grounds their scent will shed,Where once were fruit-trees yielding meat;