Seven long years did she keep the place
To open the doors accurst,
And every soul that her tear-drops knew,
It would neither burn nor thirst.
And once she let in her father dear,
And once her brother through.
Once came a friend she had loved full well:
Oh, bitter it was to do!
Now, no toil in the great halls of the evil one could have been more bitter to endure than to unbar the door for the lost souls; for her sweet tenderness was tortured most of all by the despairing ghosts that passed to their eternal perdition, and her hands felt guilty at letting them go through.
But of all the sorrows none was so great as for her eyes to see the tortures of Black Roderick, who stood beside her in his anguish, for the tears that fell upon him from her eyes gave him no relief, since he had injured her on earth. She held her hands to hold the fiery waters that fell upon him, and her tender body strove to stand between him
