Page:Tragedies of Sophocles (Plumptre 1878).djvu/593

Rh

I heard the story old,

Though never was it given me to behold,

How Cronos' mighty son

Bound on the wheel that still went whirling on,

The man who dared draw nigh

The holy marriage-bed of Zeus on high;

But never heard I tell,

Or with mine eyes saw fate more dark and fell

Than that which this man bound,

Though he nor guilty of foul deeds was found,

Nor yet of broken trust,

But still was known as just among the just;

And now he perisheth

With this unlooked for, undeservèd death:

And wonder fills my soul,

How he, still listening to the surge's roll,

Had strength his life to bear,

Life where no moment came but brought a tear.

Here where none near him came,

Himself his only neighbour, weak and lame,

None, in the island born,

Sharing his woe, to whom his soul might mourn,

With loud re-echoing cry,

The gnawing pains, the blood-fraught misery,—

Who might with herbs assuage

The gore that oozes, in its fevered rage,

From out his foot's sore wound,

(Should that ill seize him,) from the parent ground

Still gathering what was meet;