When eternal spurn'd back his religion
And gave him a place in the north, obscure,
Shadowly, void, solitary.
Eternals, I hear your call gladly
Dictate swift winged words, and fear
Not to unfold your dark vision of torment.
"Impia Tortorum longos his turba
furores sanguinis innocui
non satiata, aluit
Sospite nune patria, fracto nune funeris antro,
Mors ubi dira fuit vita salusque tenent."




