Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/342

244 Yet some one of the Gods

Still keeps him from the house of Hades dark,

As one who may not fail.

Wherefore, half blaming thee, I speak my words,

Kindly, yet thwarting thee,

And say thou should'st not fret away good hope;

Not even He, who reigns in glory crowned,

The son of Cronos high,

Hath given to men a painless heritage,

But still the whirling courses of the Bear

Bring grief and joy in turn.

For neither does the spangled night remain,

Nor the dark Fates, nor wealth, abide with men;

Quickly they leave this man, and pass to that,

Both joy, and loss of joy;

And this, I say that thou, our queen, should'st have

For ever in thy hopes.

For who hath known in Zeus forgetfulness

Of those He children calls?

Deian. Thou comest, one may guess, as having learnt

My many woes: yet may'st thou never know,

(As now thou knowest not,) by suffering taught,

How I consume my soul. The tender plant

Grows in such climes where neither God's hot sun,

Nor storm, nor any blast may trouble it,

But in pure joy it lives its painless life,

Until that hour when maiden gains the name

Of wife, and gains her share of nightly grief,

Or caring for her husband, or her babes.

Then might one see, by that experience taught,

How I am crushed with sorrows. Many a woe