Virgil The Georgics trans. by L. P. Wilkinson, Penguin Books, Ltd, 1982.  pp. 139-142.
Paraphrasing of Virgil’s 4th Georgic lines 452-527.

Poor Orpheus, you were the reason
Eurydice did not see the snake, watching
From the deep grass, while running from
Your embrace.  The Dryads shook the
Mountains with their cries.  Mt. Rhodope,
Pangaea’s peaks, Thrace, the land of Rhesus,
The Getae and Hebrus and Attic Orithuia
All wailed.  Orpheus used his tortoiseshell
Lyre to soothe himself, while singing for
Eurydice alone on the shore day and
Night.  He braved the Underworld,
And approached the shades and their
Terrible king.  He moved their hard hearts
With his music.  The shades were drawn
To him thick as birds; mothers, men,
Heroes, boys and girls.  The very halls and dens
Of Tartarus were stunned, even the Furies,
And Cerberus’ three mouths stood agape.

Orpheus returned with Eurydice following him
By Proserpina’s order. On the very brink
Of the upper light a madness came over him,
He looked back at Eurydice.  Having broke the
Rules, three times thunder roared over Lake
Avernus.  “Orpheus,” she cried, “What has
Happened?  We are ruined.  The Fates call me
Back to the darkness again.  Goodbye forever.
I am carried away stretching out these helpless
Hands.”  He grasped at nothing wishing to say
So much more.  The ferryman denied his second crossing.

They say he wept beside the Styx for seven
Months. Alone under the stars he entranced
Tigers and oak-trees with his sad songs as
A nightingale under a poplar-tree mourns her
Children killed by a heartless ploughman.
Love didn’t touch him, nor any want of
Marriage.  He wandered along the snowy
River Don and the Rhipaean fields
Permanently frozen lamenting Eurydice.
Thracian women, feeling despised, tore the
Young poet apart one night during their
Bacchic orgies.  They scattered his limbs
Across the countryside and threw his head in
The river Hebrus, where it called, “Eurydice!”
“Eurydice!” echoed off the river banks.