Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (1908) Morshead.djvu/226

196 With myriad eyes, where'er my feet would roam.

But on him in a moment, unforeseen,

Came Fate, and sundered him from life; but I,

Still maddened by the gadfly's sting, the scourge

Of God's infliction, roam the weary world.

How I have fared, thou hearest: be there aught

Of what remains to bear, that thou canst tell,

Speak on! but let not thy compassion warm

Thy words to cheering falsehood. Worst of woes

Are words that break their promise to our hope!

Woe! woe! avaunt—thou and thy tale of bane!

O never, never dared I dream

Such horror of strange sounds should pierce mine ear,

Such loathly sights, such tortures hard to bear,

Outrage, pollution, agony supreme,

Wasting my heart with double edge of pain!

Ah Fate, ah Fate! I gaze on Io's dole,

And shudder to my soul!

Thou wailest all too soon, fulfilled of fear—

Tarry awhile, till thou have learned the whole.

Say on, reveal it! suffering souls are fain

To know aright what yet remains to bear.

Lightly, with help of mine, did ye achieve

That which ye first desired: from Io's mouth