Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/180

168 A God ye behold in bondage and pain,

The foe of Zeus and one at feud with all

The deities that find

Submissive entry to the tyrant's hall;

His fault, too great a love of humankind.

Ah me! Ah me! what wafture nigh at hand,

As of great birds of prey, is this I hear?

The bright air fanned

Whistles and shrills with rapid beat of wings.

There cometh nought but to my spirit brings

Horror and fear.

Put thou all fear away!

In kindness cometh this array

On wings of speed to mountain lone,

Our sire's consent not lightly won.

But a fresh breeze our convoy brought,

For loud the din of iron raught

Even to our sea-caves cold recess,

And scared away the meek-eyed bashfulness.

I tarried not to tie my sandal shoe

But haste, post haste, through air my winged chariot flew.

Ah me! Ah me!

Fair progeny

That many-childed Tethys brought to birth,

Fathered of Ocean old

Whose sleepless stream is rolled