Page:Electra of Euripides (Murray 1913).djvu/53

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Thy defender, yea, alone

To fight the world! Lo, this day have I thrown

A net, which once unbroken from the sea

Drawn home, shall O, and it must surely be!

Else men shall know there is no God, no light

In Heaven, if wrong to the end shall conquer right.

Comest thou, comest thou now,

Chained by the years and slow,

O Day long sought?

A light on the mountains cold

Is lit, yea, a fire burneth.

'Tis the light of one that turneth

From roamings manifold,

Back out of exile old

To the house that knew him not.

Some spirit hath turned our way,

Victory visible,

Walking at thy right hand,

Belovèd; O lift this day

Thine arms, thy voice, as a spell;

And pray for thy brother, pray,

Threading the perilous land,

That all be well!

Enough; this dear delight is mine at last

Of thine embracing; and the hour comes fast