Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/288

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I will go in. A horror I essay! —

Yea, horrors will achieve! If this please Heaven,

So be it. Bitter strife, yet sweet, for me.

Hail, Queen of the Argive land!

All hail, O Tyndareus' daughter!

Hail, sister of Zeus' sons, heroes twain

In the glittering heavens mid stars who stand,

And their proud right this, to deliver from bane

Men tossed on the storm-vext water.

Hail! As to the Blest, do I yield thee thy right

Of homage, for awe of thy wealth and thy bliss.

With observance to compass thy fortune's height

This, Queen, is the hour, even this!

Step from the wain, Troy's daughters; take mine hand,

That from this chariot-floor I may light down.

As the Gods' temples are with spoils adorned

Of Troy, so these, the chosen of Phrygian land,