Page:Four Plays of Aeschylus (Cookson).djvu/67

Rh

In all things else may the Olympian Gods

Prosper us. For my youth fear not, my father,

In this ripe season of my beauty. If

The Gods have not appointed some new thing

I mean to walk where heretofore I trod.

Set forward to the city then

And to her Gods give thanks,

Lords of their bliss within her walls

Or dwellers by the banks

Of Erasinus old. And you,

Dear maids, our music sweet

Accompany with clapping hands

And dance of rhythmic feet.

Our song is of Pelasgia's town,

And we will hymn no more

The fullness of the fluctuant Nile,

But placid streams that pour

Deep draughts for thirsty lips, and cheer

The land with childish mirth,

Turning stiff tracts of stubborn ground

To soft and fertile earth.

Chaste Artemis, watch over us,

And love come in tender guise,

Not forced by Cytherea's might;

We wish our foes that prize.