Page:The Tragedies of Aeschylus - tr. Potter - 1812.pdf/71

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 * All sad and slow I pour the moral strain:


 * Chang'd from that melting vein,


 * When the light mellifluous measure


 * Round thy bath, and round thy bed


 * For our sea-nymph sister spread,


 * Awoke young love and bridal pleasure,


 * And pour'd the soul of harmony,


 * To greet the bright Hesione.

Whither, ah whither am I borne !

To what rude shore, what barb'rous race? O thou,

Whoe'er thou art, that chain'd to that bleak rock,

The seat of desolation, ruest thy crimes,

Say on what shore my wretched footsteps stray.—

Again that sting!—Ah me, that form again !—

With all his hundred eyes the earth-born Argus—

Cover it, Earth ! See, how it glares upon me,

The horrid spectre—Wilt thou not, O Earth,

Cover the dead, that from thy dark abyss

He comes to haunt me, to pursue my steps,

And drive me foodless o'er the barren strand?

Hoarse sounds the reed-compacted pipe, a note

Sullen and drowsy.—Miserable me!