Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/276

220 That the Sun from that vision turned backward the glory

Of the gold of the face of his flaming throne,

With the scourge of his wrath in affliction repaying

Mortals for deeds in their mad feuds done:—

Yet it may be the tale liveth, soul-affraying,

To bow us to Godward in lowly obeying.

O mother of princes, it rose not before thee

Mid thy lord's moan, staying thine hand from the slaying!

Ha, friends!

Heard ye a great voice—or am I beguiled

Of fancy?—like earth-muffled thunder of Zeus?

Lo there, the gale is swelling all too plain!

Princess, come forth thine house!—Electra, come!

Enter Electra.

Friends, what befalls?—how doth our conflict speed?

I know but this, I hear a cry of death.

I also hear—far off—yet oh, I hear!

Faint from the distance stole the cry, yet clear.