Page:Sophocles (Collins).djvu/138

"Thou flaming Sun! whom spangled Night,
Self-destroying, brings to light,
Then lulls to sleep again;
Bright Herald, girt with beaming rays,
Say, where Alcmena's offspring strays;
Say, lurks he on the main?
Or lays his head to rest
On Europe or on Asia's breast?
In pity deign reply,
Thou of the lordly eye!

His bride, erst won by desperate fray,
Muses where lies his dangerous way;
Like some sad bird, her soul is set
On constancy and vain regret;
Sleep never seals those eyes, where woe
Lies all too deep for tears to flow,
While thought and boding Fancy's dread
Flit ever round her lonely bed.
Oft when the northern blast,
Or southern winds unwearied rave,
Ye see the ocean cast
In quick succession wave on wave;
So to whelm old Cadmus' son,
Rush redoubled labours on,
Thick as round the Cretan shore
The swoln and turbid billows roar:
Yet his step from Pluto's halls
Still some unerring God recalls.
My Queen! disdain not thou to brook
My chidings kind, and soft rebuke,
Nor cast away, in morbid mood,
The cheering hope of future good.
For universal nature's lord,

Saturn's great, son, by all adored,