Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/422

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That had ravined at mangers of murder, and stained them

With revel of banquets of horror, when gore

From men's limbs dripped that their fierce teeth tore.

Over eddies of Hebrus silvery-coiling

He passed to the great work yet to be done,

In the tasks of the lord of Mycenæ toiling;

By the surf mid the Maliac reefs ever boiling,

And by founts of Anaurus, he journeyed on,

Till the shaft from his string did the death-challenge sing

Unto Kyknus the guest-slayer, Amphanæ's king,

Who gave welcome to none.

To the Song-maids he came, to the Garden enfolden

In glory of sunset, to pluck, where they grew

Mid the fruit-laden frondage the apples golden:

And the flame-hued dragon, the warder that drew

All round it his terrible spires, he slew.

Through the rovers' gorges seaward-gazing

He sought; and thereafter in peace might roam

All mariners plying the oars swift-racing:

And he came to the mansion of Atlas, and placing

His arms outstretched 'neath the sky's mid-dome,

By his might he upbore the firmament's floor,

And the palace with splendour of stars fretted o'er,

The Immortals' home.

On the Amazon hosts upon war-steeds riding

By the shores of Mæotis, the river-meads green,

He fell; for the surges of Euxine he cleft.

What brother in arms was in Hellas left,