Page:Works of Voltaire Volume 16.djvu/174

152 I come to join my sorrows and my tears, For know the world with me hath lost its best And noblest friend: ne'er shall these eyes behold The offspring of the gods, like them unconquered, Earth's best support, the guardian deity Of innocence oppressed: I mourn a friend, The world a father.

Is Alcides dead?

These hands performed the melancholy office, Laid on his funeral pile the first of men; The all-conquering arrows, those dear dreadful gifts The son of Jove bequeathed me, have I brought, With his cold ashes, here, where I will raise A tomb and altars to my valued friend. O! had he lived! had but indulgent heaven, In pity to mankind, prolonged his days, Far from Jocaste I had still remained; And, though I might have cherished still my vain And hopeless passion, had not wandered here, Or left Alcides for a woman's love.

Oft have I pitied thy unhappy flame, Caught in thy earliest youth, increasing still And growing with thy growth: Jocaste, forced By a hard father to a hateful bed, Unwillingly partook the throne of Laius. Alas! what tears those fatal nuptials cost, What sorrows have they brought on wretched Thebes! How have I oft admired thy noble soul,