Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/117

Rh

Lo, daughter, I pass on:

Thou guide me, hapless one.

Hapless I am—thou sayest well—

Above all maids in Thebes that dwell.

Where shall I plant mine old feet now?

Reach me my staff, O daughter thou.

Hitherward, hitherward, tread:

Let thy feet follow hither mine hand,

O strengthless as dream of the night!

Ah thou who on wretchedest exile hast sped

The old man forth of his fatherland!

Ah woes I have borne! Ah horror's height!

Thou hast borne?—thou hast borne?—doth Justice regard not then

The sinner? Requiteth she not the follies of men?

Lo, I am he on breath

Of song upraised to heaven,

When that dark riddle of the Maid of Death

To me to read was given.