Page:Eumenides (Murray 1925).djvu/35

vv. 286–311 In scatheless parle. And now, with lips of grace,

Once more I pray the Lady of this place,

Athena, to mine aid. Let her but come;

Myself, mine Argive people and my home

Shall without war be hers, hers true of heart

And changeless. Therefore, whereso'er thou art,

In some far wilderness of Libyan earth,

By those Tritonid waters of thy birth;

Upgirt for deeds or veilèd on thy throne;

Or is it Phlegra's field thou brood'st upon,

Guiding the storm, like some bold Lord of War,

Oh, hear! A goddess heareth though afar:

Bring me deliverance in this mine hour!

[He waits expectant, but there is no answer.

Not Lord Apollo's, not Athena's power

Shall reach thee any more. Forgot, forgot,

Thou reelest back to darkness, knowing not

Where in man's heart joy dwelleth; without blood,

A shadow, flung to devils for their food!

Wilt answer not my word? Wilt spurn thereat,

Thou that art mine, born, doomed, and consecrate

My living feast, at no high altar slain?

Hark thou this song to bind thee like a chain!

Up, let us tread the dance, and wind—

The hour is come!—our shuddering spell.

Show how this Band apportions well

Their fated burdens to mankind.