Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/388

350 MEROPE.

At the undried fount of this breast,

A babe, thou smilest again.

Thy brothers play at my feet,

Early-slain innocents! near,

Thy kind-speaking father stands.

ÆPYTUS.

Remember, to avenge his death I come!

MEROPE.

Ah...revenge!

That word! it kills me! I see

Once more roll back on my house,

Never to ebb, the accurst

All-flooding ocean of blood.

ÆPYTUS.

Mother, sometimes the justice of the Gods

Appoints the way to peace through shedding blood.

MEROPE.

Sorrowful peace!

ÆPYTUS.

And yet the only peace to us allow'd.

MEROPE.

From the first-wrought vengeance is born

A long succession of crimes.

Fresh blood flows, calling for blood.

Fathers, sons, grandsons, are all

One death-dealing vengeful train.