Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/279

Rh

And none of valour proven against the mighty stream

May stand, a living bulwark, and that fierce billow stem;

For Persia's host resistless is, and her stout-hearted men.

But ah! what mortal baffle may

A god's deep-plotted snare,—

Who may o'erleap with foot so light?

Até at first, with semblance fair,

Into her toils allures her prey,

Whence no mere mortal wight

May break away.

In olden time by Heaven's decree

Fixed was the Persians' destiny;—

Tower-battering war was theirs by Fate,

The turmoil when steed-mounted foes

In shock of battle fiercely close,

And cities to make desolate.