"And now she knows, at agate portals bright, How Circe and her poisons have a home, Carved in one ruby that a Titan lost, Where icy philters brim with scarlet foam, ’Mid hiss of oils in burnished caldrons tost, While thickly from her prey his life-tide drips, In turbid dyes that tinge her torture-dome; As craftily she gleans her deadly dews, With gyving spells not Pluto’s queen can use, Or listens to her victim’s moan, and sips Her darkest wine, and smiles with wicked lips."