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Rh The parents that have perished miserably;

Far better pleaseth me

The wailing one who "Itys, Itys," mourns,

The bird heartbroken, messenger of Zeus.

Ah, Niobe! with all thy countless woes

I count thee still divine,

Who in thy tomb of rock

Weepest for evermore.

Chor. Not unto thee alone,

My child, of those that live

Have grief and sorrow come;

Nor sufferest thou ought more than those within

With whom thou sharest home and kith and kin,

Iphianassa and Chrysothemis;

And one is mourning in a youth obscure,

Yet happy, too, in part,

Whom one day the Mykenians' glorious land

Shall welcome as the heir of noble race,

Coming to this our soil,

As sent by grace of Zeus,

Orestes, come at last.

Elec. Ah! him I wait for with unwearied hope,

And go, ah! piteous fate!

Childless, unwedded still;

My cheeks are wet with tears,