Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/128

116 O Ares! of all pity to thine own kin be kind!

Be warder of the town that calls King Cadmus' fame to mind!

Cypris, ancestress of our race! Blood of thy blood are we!

Yet none the less, as men sue Gods, we turn in prayer to thee!

Be Wolf to them, Wolf-Slayer! With gnashing of the teeth

Requite them! Leto's Daughter, thy silver bow unsheathe!

Cry, cry aloud with wailing! Hera, Mistress Supreme!

The chariots rattle round our walls! The grinding axles scream!

Oh, gracious Artemis! Shrill, shrill the note—the song of keening care!

Shook with the rush of volleying spears raves the affrighted air!

How fares it with the city? And what shall be our fate?

And whither doth God lead us? What end doth consummate?

Cry, cry aloud with wailing! Thick, thick, in soaring flight

Bursts on our walls a hail of stones! The parapet they smite!

Benign Apollo! In our gates the bronze-bound bucklers chide!

Queen—Power by Zeus appointed war's issue to decide,—

Who stand'st above our city,—Onka Invincible!