Page:Electra of Euripides (Murray 1913).djvu/88

72 Not far now shall it be,

The sacrifice God asks of me and thee.

The bread of Death is broken, and the knife

Lifted again that drank the Wild Bull's life:

And on his breast Ha, Mother, hast slept well

Aforetime? Thou shalt lie with him in Hell.

That grace I give to cheer thee on thy road;

Give thou to me—peace from my father's blood! [She follows her mother into the house.

Lo, the returns of wrong.

The wind as a changèd thing

Whispereth overhead

Of one that of old lay dead

In the water lapping long:

My King, O my King!

A cry in the rafters then

Rang, and the marble dome:

"Mercy of God, not thou,

"Woman! To slay me now,

"After the harvests ten

"Now, at the last, come home!"

O Fate shall turn as the tide,

Turn, with a doom of tears

For the flying heart too fond;

A doom for the broken bond.

She hailed him there in his pride,

Home from the perilous years,