Page:Atalanta in Calydon - a tragedy (IA atalantaincalydo00swinrich).pdf/132

 Strong from the sun and fragrant from the rains I sprang and cleft the closure of thy womb, Mother, I dying with unforgetful tongue Hail thee as holy and worship thee as just Who art unjust and unholy; and with my knees Would worship, but thy fire and subtlety, Dissundering them, devour me; for these limbs Are as light dust and crumblings from mine urn Before the fire has touched them; and my face As a dead leaf or dead foot’s mark on snow, And all this body a broken barren tree That was so strong, and all this flower of life Disbranched and desecrated miserably, And minished all that god-like muscle and might And lesser than a man’s: for all my veins Fail me, and all mine ashen life burns down. I would thou hadst let me live; but gods averse, But fortune, and the fiery feet of change, And time, these would not, these tread out my life, These and not thou; me too thou hast loved, and I Thee; but this death was mixed with all my life, Mine end with my beginning: and this law, This only, slays me, and not my mother at all. And let no brother or sister grieve too sore, Nor melt their hearts out on me with their tears, Since extreme love and sorrowing overmuch