So Ruth arose, and when the wine-lipped Dawn,
Gathering his robes about him like a god,
Went up to the great summits of the world
From the black valleys of immeasurable space,
She passed beyond the limit of the vale.
Those she loved best had all been torn away;
The last, her child, was sold she knew not where;
And Coralline too should taste a bitter cup,
Feeling the fury of a deep revenge.