Page:Sophocles (Collins).djvu/138

126 Thou flaming Sun! whom spangled Night,

Self-destroying, brings to light,

Then lulls to sleep again;

Bright Herald, girt with beaming rays,

Say, where Alcmena's offspring strays;

Say, lurks he on the main?

Or lays his head to rest

On Europe or on Asia's breast?

In pity deign reply,

Thou of the lordly eye!

His bride, erst won by desperate fray,

Muses where lies his dangerous way;

Like some sad bird, her soul is set

On constancy and vain regret;

Sleep never seals those eyes, where woe

Lies all too deep for tears to flow,

While thought and boding Fancy's dread

Flit ever round her lonely bed.

Oft when the northern blast,

Or southern winds unwearied rave,

Ye see the ocean cast

In quick succession wave on wave;

So to whelm old Cadmus' son,

Rush redoubled labours on,

Thick as round the Cretan shore

The swoln and turbid billows roar:

Yet his step from Pluto's halls

Still some unerring God recalls.

My Queen! disdain not thou to brook

My chidings kind, and soft rebuke,

Nor cast away, in morbid mood,

The cheering hope of future good.

For universal nature's lord,

Saturn's great, son, by all adored,