Chorus.
Aid me, ye gods, that never, never
I may again behold
The mighty, the life-giving river,
Nilus, the quickener of field and fold!
Alack, O sire, unto the shrine I cling—
Shrine of this land from which mine ancient line did spring.
Herald of Ægyptus.
Shrines, shrines, forsooth!—the ship, the ship be shrine.
Aboard, perforce and will-ye nill-ye, go!
Or e'er from hands of mine
Ye suffer torments worse and blow on blow.
Chorus.
Alack, God grant those hands may strive in vain
With the salt-streaming wave,
When 'gainst the wide-blown blasts thy bark shall strain
To round Sarpedon's cape, the sandbank's treach'rous grave.
Herald of Ægyptus.
Shrill ye and shriek unto what gods ye may,
Ye shall not leap from out Ægyptus' bark,
How bitterly soe'er ye wail your woe.
Chorus.
Alack, alack my wrong!
Stern is thy voice, thy vaunting loud and strong.
Thy sire, the mighty Nilus, drive thee hence,
Turning to death and doom thy greedy violence!
