Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (1908) Morshead.djvu/119

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Nay, but as I rose to earth again, obedient to your call,

Prithee, tarry not in parley! be one word enough for all—

Speak and gaze on me unshrinking, neither let my face appal!

I tremble to reveal,

Yet tremble to conceal

Things hard for friends to feel!

Nay, but if the old-time terror on your spirit keeps its hold,

Speak thou, O royal lady who didst couch with me of old!

Stay thy weeping and lamenting and to me reveal the truth—

Speak! for man is born to sorrow; yea, the proverb sayeth sooth!

'Tis the doom of mortal beings, if they live to see old age,

To suffer bale, by land and sea, through war and tempest's rage.

O thou whose blissful fate on earth all mortal weal excelled—

Who, while the sunlight touched thine eyes, the lord of all wert held!

A god to Persian men thou wert, in bliss and pride and fame—

I hold thee blest too in thy death, or e'er the ruin came!