(Ant. 2)
And now, with the tears from his eyes fast-raining,
Thrown wide are his palace-doors to the guest,
While newly his heart 'neath its burden is straining,
For the wife that hath died in his halls distressed. 600
For to honour's heights are the high-born lifted,
And the good are with truest wisdom gifted;
And there broods on mine heart bright trust unwaning
That the god-reverer shall yet be blest.
Admetus.
O kindly presence of Pheraian men,
This corpse even now, with all things meet, my servants
Bear on their shoulders to the tomb and pyre.
Wherefore, as custom is, hail ye the dead,
On the last journey as she goeth forth. 610
Chorus.
Lo, I behold thy sire with aged foot
Advancing, and attendants in their hands
Bear ornaments to deck the dead withal.
Pheres.
I come in thine afflictions sorrowing, son:
A noble wife and virtuous hast thou lost, 615
None will gainsay: yet these calamities
We needs must bear, how hard to bear soever.
Receive these ornaments, and let her pass
Beneath the earth: well may the corpse be honoured
Of her who for thy life's sake died, my son; 620
Who made me not unchilded, left me not
