Page:Prometheus Bound (Bevan 1902).djvu/89

 Make me meat to be

For the dragons of the sea;—

Yea, this my great desire,

Vouchsafe to grant, O God!

For far I have gone, and farther is to go,

Though my flesh cries

For respite: but to rid me of my woe

I find no wise.

The voice that fills thine ears

Hers is, whose forehead wears,

Set for a wonder and sign,

Horns as the horns of kine.

Surely the voice I hear none other is

Than hers, the maiden driven of the fly,

The child of Inachos, that sets afire

The heart of Zeus with love, and now, ill-seen

Of Hera, fares perforce her infinite way.