Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (1908) Morshead.djvu/83

Rh

The gods above grant that all else be well.

But fear not thou, O sire, lest aught befall

Of ill unto our ripened maidenhood.

So long as Heaven have no new ill devised,

From its chaste path my spirit shall not swerve.

Pass and adore ye the Blessed, the gods of the city who dwell

Around Erasinus, the gush of the swift immemorial tide.

Chant ye, O maidens; aloud let the praise of Pelasgia swell;

Hymn we no longer the shores where Nilus to ocean doth glide.

Sing we the bounteous streams that ripple and gush through the city;

Quickening flow they and fertile, the soft new life of the plain.

Artemis, maiden most pure, look on us with grace and with pity—

Save us from forced embraces: such love hath no crown but a pain.