Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/426

370 But I, O Zeus, with hand to heaven upcast

Cry—if for these babes thou hast any help,

Save them; for soon thou nothing shalt avail.

Yet oft hast thou been prayed: in vain I toil;

For now, meseems, we cannot choose but die.

Ah friends, old friends, short is the span of life:

See ye pass through it blithely as ye may,

Wasting no time in grief 'twixt morn and eve.

For nothing careth Time to spare our hopes:

Swiftly he works his work, and fleets away.

See me, the observed of all observers once,

Doer of deeds of name—in one day all

Fortune hath snatched, as a feather skyward wafted.

None know I whose great wealth or high repute

Is sure. Farewell: for him that was your friend

Now for the last time, age-mates, have ye seen.

Herakles appears in the distance.

Ha!

Ancient, my dear lord—else what?—do I see?

I know not, daughter,—speechless am I struck.

'Tis he who lay, we heard, beneath the earth,

Except in broad day we behold a dream!

What say I?—see they dreams, these yearning eyes?

This is none other, ancient, than thy son.