In land of Apia, shall we flee,
If refuge dark lurk anywhere?
As sable smoke, ah, might I be,
That to the clouds of Zeus draws near, 760
Or, soaring without wings, ah me,
Unseen, like viewless dust dissolve in air!
Antistrophe I.
Scapeless is now the threatened doom;
Throbbeth my spirit steeped in gloom;
Me hath thine out-look ruined, sire!
I faint with dread. Let me expire,
By twistings of the girdle slain,
Or e'er the man by me abhorred,
This form approach with touch profane! 770
Rather, in death, let Hades be my lord!
Strophe II.
Oh for a seat in upper air
Where the dank vapours turn to snow;—
Or might some beetling crag forlorn,
Smooth, steep, unfriendly, lonesome, bare,
The vultures' haunt, my plunge below
Witness, ere forceful I am torn,
Heart-piercing wedlock's dreaded yoke to share.
Antistrophe II.
That food of dogs I then should be, 780
Or gorge the prey-birds, native here,
Appals me not; for death is free
From ills that sorrow's plaint endear.
