Dê. Me thinks thou knowest too, for thou hast seen,
My kind reception of the stranger-maid?
Lich. I saw, and was amazed with heart-struck joy.
Dê. What more is there to tell?—Too rash, I fear,
Were thy report of longing on my part,
Till we can learn if we be longed for there.
[Exeunt severally
Chorus.
O ye that haunt the strand I 1
Where ships in quiet land
Near Oeta’s height and the warm rock-drawn well,
And ye round Melis’ inland gulf who dwell,
Worshipping her who wields the golden wand,—
(There Hellas’ wisest meet in council strong):
Soon shall the flute arise
With sound of glad surprise,
Thrilling your sense with no unwelcome song,
But tones that to the harp of Heavenly Muse belong.
Zeus’ and Alcmena’s son,— I 2
All deeds of glory done,—
Speeds now triumphant to his home, whom we
Twelve weary months of blind expectancy
Lost in vast distance, from our country gone.
While, sadly languishing, his loving wife,
Still flowing down with tears,
Pined with unnumbered fears.
But Ares, lately stung to furious strife,
Frees him for ever from the toilsome life.
O let him come to-day! II
Ne’er may his vessel stay,
But glide with feathery sweep of many an oar,
Till from his altar by yon island shore
Even to our town he wind his prosperous way,
In mien returning mild,
And inly reconciled,
With that anointing in his heart ingrained,
Which the dark Centaur’s wizard lips ordained.
