Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/287

Rh My mother brought me forth. Nay, Jove himself Is proud that he is held to be my sire. Then cease thy tears, O mother; thou shalt be Of high degree among Argolic dames. For no such son as thine has Juno borne, Though she may wield the scepter of the skies, The Thunderer's bride. And yet, though holding heaven, She grudged Alcides to a mortal birth, And wished that she might call him son of hers. Now, Titan, must thou go thy way alone; For I, who have thy constant comrade been, Am bound for Tartara, the world of shades. Yet down to hell I bear this noble praise: That openly no monster conquered me, But that I conquered all—and openly.

Chorus: Bright sun, thou glory of the world, At whose first rays wan Hecate Unyokes the weary steeds of night, To east and west the message tell; To those who suffer 'neath the Bear, And who, beneath thy burning car Are tortured: Hercules prepares To speed him to the world of shades, The realm of sleepless Cerberus, Whence he will ne'er again return. Let thy bright rays be overcast With clouds; gaze on the mourning world With pallid face; and let thy head In thick and murky mists be veiled. When, Titan, where, beneath what sky, Shalt thou behold upon the earth Another such as Hercules? Whom shall the wretched land invoke, If any hundred-headed pest, In Lerna born, spring up anew And spread destruction; if again Some boar in ancient Arcady Infest the woods; or if again