Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/316

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Hearing of Persia's sorrows manifold,

Present and yet to come, sorely I grieved.

Fate unblest! How many grievous ills

Upon me fall, yet most this sorrow stings,

That of my son's dishonour I must hear,

His royal limbs in tatter'd garb arrayed.

But I will go, and taking from my home

Costly attire, meet, if I may, my son.

For ne'er will we our dearest fail in woe.

[Exit .]

Noble and blest in sooth our city-ruling life,

What time our monarch hoar,

Resourceful, blameless, unsubdued in strife,

Godlike Darius ruled our country o'er.

As chiefs of glorious hosts were we displayed,

Firm laws did all things guide,

While scathless and unworn, when war was laid,

In triumph to their homes our warriors hied.

How many a town he took, yet seldom he

The Halys crossed, or from his hearth would roam;