Page:Suppliant Maidens (Morshead) 1883.djvu/55

Rh O sister, sister, to the altar cling,

For he that seizeth me,

Grim is his wrath and stern, by land as on the sea.

Guard us, O king!

Hence to my barge—step swiftly, tarry not.

Alack, he rends—he rends my hair! O wound on wound!

Help! my lopped head will fall, my blood gush o'er the ground!

Aboard, ye cursèd—with a new curse, go!

Would God that on the wand'ring brine

Thou and this braggart tongue of thine

Had sunk beneath the main—

Thy mast and planks, made fast in vain!

Thee would I drive aboard once more,

A slayer and a dastard, from the shore!

Be still, thou vain demented soul;

My force thy craving shall control.

Away, aboard! What, clingest to the shrine?

Away! this city's gods I hold not for divine.