Page:Medea (Webster 1868).djvu/70



And miserable mother of fair boys,

We mourn too thy despair with outburst weeping,

Thine who wouldst kill

Thy sons for the wife's couch where lonely sleeping

Thy husband leaves thee for new lawless joys

With a new homemate who thy place shall fill.

Mistress, thy children are forgiven from exile:

And in her hands the queenly bride, well pleased,

Received the gifts. Thence goodwill to thy sons.

Alas!

Why dost thou stand aghast when thou hast prospered?

Woe's me!

This chimes not with the tidings I declare.

Woe's me again.