Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/412

356 Who mournest for thy lord long absent now

In the Unseen King's abode!

Let feet not faint, nor let the tired limbs trail

Heavy, as when uphillward strain,

Trampling the stones, a young steed's feet that hale

The massy four-wheel wain.

Lay hold on helping hand, on vesture's fold,

Whoso hath failing feet that grope

Blindly:—thy brother, ancient, thou uphold

Up this steep temple-slope,

Thy friend, who once mid toils of battle-peers

Shoulder to shoulder, did not shame—

When thou and he were young, when clashed the spears,—

His country's glorious name.

Mark ye how dragon-like glaring

As the eyes of the sire whom we knew

Are the eyes of the sons!—and unsparing

His hard lot followeth too

His sons; and the kingly mien

Of the sire in the children is seen.

O Hellas, if thou uncaring

Beholdest them slain, what a band

Of champions is lost to our land!

But lo, the ruler of this land I see,

Lykus, unto these mansions drawing nigh.

Enter Lykus.

Thee, sire of Herakles, and thee, his wife,