Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/146

128 Amphion, son of Jove, once built, its stones Compelling by the magic of his lyre; Down to whose citadel not once alone The father, of the gods from heaven came? This royal city which the immortals oft Has entertained, which has divinities Produced, and (heaven forgive the boastful word) Perchance will yet produce, is now oppressed Beneath a shameful yoke. O royal race Of Cadmus, noble state Amphion ruled, Low hast thou fallen indeed! Dost thou obey A low born exile, driven from his land And yet oppressing ours? And now, alas, He, who on land and sea doth punish crime, Who breaks all cruel rule with righteous hand, Far off obeys another, and himself Endures those ills from which he others saved; And Lycus rules the Thebes of Hercules! But not for long; he soon will come again, And punish all the wrongs; he suddenly Will to the upper world emerge; a way He'll find—or make. Oh, come unharmed, I pray; As victor come at last unto thy home Which now in ruins lies. O husband, come, With thy strong hand break through the shades of hell. And if no way is open, if the road Is closely barred, then rend the earth and come; And all that lies in keep of dismal night Bring forth with thee. As once, through riven hills A passage seeking for a headlong stream, Thou stood'st, and, with thy strength gigantic cleft, The vale of Tempe opened wide; as then, Impelled by might of thy resistless breast, The mountains fell away from either side, And through the broken masses poured the stream Of Thessaly along a channel new: So now to parents, children, native land, A passage burst. And bring away with thee The shapes of death, and all that greedy time