Page:The Antigone of Sophocles (1911).djvu/32

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Speak thus, and hated wilt thou be by me,

And hated justly too by him that ’s gone.

Leave me and this unwisdom that is mine

To suffer this thou fear’st. To suffer? Naught

There is that I shall suffer in this world

That equals suffering an ignoble death;

And nothing shall I suffer by this act

That will deprive me of a glorious death.

Go, if thou wilt; in folly truly, though,

Yet truly dear to dear ones dost thou go.

O beam of sun, the fairest

That ever dawned on Thebes,

And ray of light the rarest

That ever shone on all

Within the Seven Gates!

Day’s open eye and golden gleam,

Thou ’rt come at last o’er Dirce’s stream,

And from our casamates

In mad career to headlong flight

The warriors that in bucklers white

From Argos sallied forth with bristling spears

Thou hast repulsed and freed us from our fears.

Against our land the savage warrior came,

In Polyneices’ quarrel, by his claim

To the throne aroused;

For the cause he espoused

A shrill-screaming eagle in flight,

With an army strong,

Crest and helmets along,

He sped to our land on a pinion of white.