As Psyche-Life goes down to the shades br In a translucent forest in Persephone's tracks, br A blind swallow falls at her feet br With Stygian tenderness and a green branch. br br The shades flock to meet the fugitive, br Welcome their new visitor with laments, br Wring their feeble hands before her br Bewildered and in timid hope. br br One holds a mirror, another a phial of perfume -- br The soul is a woman, fond of trifles br And the leafless forest is sprinkled with fine rain of br Laments, dry transparent voices. br br And in the gentle confusion, not knowing what to begin, br The soul does not recognize the spectral wood, br Breathes on the mirror, and hesitates to give br The copper coin from the misty crossing.