Page:The Dramas of Aeschylus (Swanwick).djvu/429

Rh Speed forth! Begone! Cherish thy present mood.

To me right eager hast thou bayed that word,

For my four-footed bird, with wings outspread,

Fans the clear track of æther; fain, in sooth,

In wonted stall to bend the weary knee.

[Exit.

Prometheus, I bewail thy doom of woe;

From their moist fountains rise,

Flooding my tender eyes,

Tears that my cheek bedew. O, cruel blow!

For Zeus by his own laws doth now hold sway,

And to the elder gods a haughty spear display.

Rings the whole country now with echoing groans.

The grand time-honour'd sway,

Mighty now passed away,

Of thee and of thy brethren, it bemoans.

And all who dwell on Asia's hallowed shore

Thy loud-resounding griefs with kindred grief deplore.

And Colchis' virgin daughters,

In fight a dauntless train;

And round Mæotis' waters

The Scythian tribes, holding earth's outmost reign.