AGAMEMNON.
25
But at Fate's judgment-seat the robber stands
Condemned of rapine, and his prey is torn
Forth from his hands, and by his deed is reaped
A bloody harvest of his home and land
Gone down to death, and for his guilt and lust
His father's race pays double in the dust.
Chorus.
Hail, herald of the Greeks, new-come from war.
Herald.
All hail! not death itself can fright me now.
Chorus.
Was thine heart wrung with longing for thy land?
Herald.
So that this joy doth brim mine eyes with tears.
Chorus.
On you too then this sweet distress did fall
Herald.
How say'st thou? make me master of thy word.
Chorus.
You longed for us who pined for you again.
Herald.
Craved the land us who craved it, love for love?
