Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/176

148 On the head of me blows, which she claims as her right

Who is queen o'er the dead 'neath the earth that are lying.

On thy locks let the steel of the shearing light,

Cyclopian land; break forth into crying,

For the woes of the house of thy princes sighing.

Ah pity upwelling, ah tears unavailing

For those in this hour that go forth to their dying,

Erst chieftains of Hellas's battle-might. (Ant.) Gone—gone! Lo, the lineage of Pelops hath fleeted

Into nothingness wholly; and passed away

Is the pride of a house in bliss high-seated,

By Heaven's jealousy blasted; and hungry to slay

Is the doom that the citizens spake death-dealing.

Ah, travail-worn tribes that endure but a day

Amid weeping, behold how the morrow, revealing

The death of your hopes, cometh destiny-sealing;

And to each man his several sorrows are meted,

Unto each in his turn, through the years on-stealing,

Nor ever abide we at one stay.

O might I win to the rock 'twixt heaven

And earth suspended in circles swinging,

Upborne by the golden chains scarce-clinging,

The shard from Olympus riven;