Virgil on Circe

“Next, skirting still the shore, they run   Fair Circe's magic coast along, Where she, bright daughter of the sun, ⁠  Her forest fastness thrills with song, And for a nightly blaze consumes Rich cedar in her stately rooms, While, sounding shrill, the comb is sped From end to end adown the thread Thence hear they many a midnight roar:   The lion strives to burst his cell: The raging bear, the foaming boar   Alternate with the gaunt wolf's yell: Whom from the human form divine   For malice' sake the ruthless queen Had changed by pharmacy malign   To bristly hide and bestial mien.”