Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/345

Rh From this report a light of rising dawn

We had not dared to hope for.

Chor. Let all within exult,

That wait their wedded joy,

With shouts on altar-hearth;

And with them let the stronger voice of men

Proclaim thy name, Apollo, guardian God,

Lord of the quiver bright,

And ye, Ο maidens. Pæan, Pæan raise;

Shout out his Sister's name,

Ortygian Artemis,

Who smites the fawn, torch-armed in either hand,

With all the neighbouring Nymphs.

I spring aloft, I can no more withstand

The flute's clear voice, Ο sovereign of my soul.

Behold, it stirs and works,

Evoi! Oh, Evoi!

The ivy-wreath that leads me back again

To hottest strife of Bacchic revelry.

Io! Oh, Io!

Pæan! Oh, Pæan!

Look thou, dear lady, look;

Before thy face they come,

And thou may'st see them clear.

Deian. I see it, Ο my friends, nor does it 'scape

Mine eye's keen watch that I should fail to note

This proud array. I welcome thee, Ο herald,

Though thou com'st late, if thou bring'st welcome news.

Lichas. Well are we come, and we are greeted well,