Page:Agamemnon (1877) Browning.djvu/115

Rh Heavily falling from above thee,

To melodize thy sorrows—else, in singing,

Calamitous, death-bringing!

And of all this the end

I am without resource to apprehend.

Well then, the oracle from veils no longer

Shall be outlooking, like a bride new-married:

But bright it seems, against the sun's uprisings

Breathing, to penetrate thee: so as, wave-like,

To wash against the rays a woe much greater

Than this. I will no longer teach by riddles.

And witness, running with me, that of evils

Done long ago, I nosing track the footstep!