And there, a new partner, a new parting, a new unfusing into twain,
A new gasp of further isolation,
A new intoxication of loneliness, among decaying, frost-cold leaves.
Going down the strange lanes of hell, more and more intensely alone,
The fibres of the heart parting one after the other
And yet the soul continuing, naked-footed, ever more vividly embodied
Like a flame blown whiter and whiter
In a deeper and deeper darkness,
Ever more exquisite, distilled in separation.
So, in the strange retorts of medlars and sorb-apples
The distilled essence of hell.
The exquisite odour of leave-taking.
Jamque vale!
Orpheus, and the winding, leaf-clogged, silent lanes of hell.
Each soul departing with its own isolation.
Strangest of all strange companions,
Latin: and now, goodbye! 
 This line is possibly an allusion to  the Orpheus story  in Ovid’s  Metamorphoses . 
 After Orpheus looks back on Eurydice and loses her again, Ovid writes: 
 
 Iamque  iterum moriens non est de coniuge quicquam questa suo: quid enim nisi se quereretur amatam? Supremumque  “vale,”  quod iam vix auribus ille acciperet, dixit revolutaque rursus eodem est. 
 And then dying a second time, she had no complaint against her husband. For what could she blame him for, except loving her? She said her final word, “Goodbye” which barely reached his ears. And then she was flung back into Hades. 
 

Medlars and Sorb-Apples