Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1898) v3.djvu/413

Rh The Pierian haunt where the Muses sing!

On Olympus the hallowed to stand all fearless

Thitherward lead me, O Clamour-king!

O Revel-god, guide where the Graces abide

And Desire,—where danceth, of no man denied,

The Bacchanal ring.

Our God, the begotten of Zeus, hath pleasure

In the glee of the feast where his chalices shine;

And Peace doth he love, who is giver of treasure,

Who of Youth is the nursing-mother divine.

On the high, on the low, doth his bounty bestow

The joyance that maketh an end of woe,

The joyance of wine.

But he hateth the man that in scorn refuseth

A life that on pinions of happiness flies

Through its days and its nights, nor the good part chooseth.

Wisely shalt thou from the over-wise

Hold thee apart: but the faith of the heart

Of the people, that lives in the works of the mart,

For me shall suffice.

Pentheus, we come, who have run down this prey

For which thou sentest us, nor sped in vain.

This wild-beast found we tame: he darted not

In flight away, but yielded, nothing loth,

His hands, nor paled, nor changed his cheeks' rose-hue,

But smiling bade us bind and lead him thence,