To the Goddess named -- Alecto
Music for a while shall all your cares beguile:
Wond'ring how your pains were eas'd
And distaining to be pleas'd
Till Alecto free the dead from their eternal bands,
Till the snakes drop from her head, and the whip from out her hands.
Music for a while shall all your cares beguile.
"Till Alecto Free the Dead" Anonymous lyric set to music by Henry Purcell (1659)
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