Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1894) v1.djvu/36

8 Though his altars should weep

With the crimson atonement, should veil them in clouds of the hecatomb-sheep.

Ah, once there was one!—

Were life's light in the eyes

Of Phœbus's son,

Then our darling might rise

From the mansions of darkness, through portals of Hades return to our skies;

For he raised up the dead,

Ere flashed from the heaven,

From Zeus' hand sped,

That bolt of the levin.

But now what remaineth to wait for?—what hope of her life is given?

No sacrifice more

Unrendered remaineth:

No God, but the gore

From his altars down-raineth:

Yet healing is none for our ills, neither balm that the spirit sustaineth.

But hither cometh of the handmaids one,

Weeping the while. What tidings shall I hear?

To grieve at all mischance unto thy lords

May be forgiven; but if thy lady lives

Or even now hath passed, fain would we know.

She liveth, and is dead: both may'st thou say.