Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (1908) Morshead.djvu/152

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Ah, but I shudder, child of Oedipus!

I heard the clash and clang!

The axles rolled and rumbled; woe to us

Fire-welded bridles rang!

Say—when a ship is strained and deep in brine,

Did e'er a seaman mend his chance, who left

The helm, t' invoke the image at the prow?

Ah, but I fled to the shrines, I called to our helpers on high,

When the stone-shower roared at the portals!

I sped to the temples aloft, and loud was my call and my cry,

Look down and deliver, Immortals!

Ay, pray amain that stone may vanquish steel!

Were not that grace of gods? ay, ay—methinks,

When cities fall, the gods go forth from them!

Ah, let me die, or ever I behold

The gods go forth, in conflagration dire!

The foemen's rush and raid, and all our hold

Wrapt in the burning fire!