Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/242

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In what proud house hast thou a bondman's place,
Leaving thy woeful sister lone
Here in the halls ancestral of our race
In sore distress to moan?
Come, a Redeemer from this anguish, heeding
My desolation and my pain:
Come Zeus, come Zeus, the champion of a bleeding
Father most foully killed—to Argos leading
The wanderer's feet again.
(Str. 2)
Set down this pitcher from thine head: 140
Let me prevent the morn
With wailings for a father dead,
Shrieks down to Hades borne,
Through the grave's gloom, O father, ringing:
Through Hades' hall to thee I call,
Day after day my cries outflinging;
And aye my cheeks are furrowed red
With blood by rending fingers shed.
Mine hands on mine head smiting fall—
Mine head for thy death shorn.
(Mesode.)
Rend the hair grief-defiled! 150
As swan's note, ringing wild
Where some broad stream still-stealeth,
O'er its dear sire outpealeth,
Mid guileful nets who lies
Dead—so o'er thee the cries
Wail, father, of thy child,
(Ant. 2)
Thee, on that piteous death-bed laid
When that last bath was o'er!
Woe for the bitter axe-edge swayed,
Father, adrip with gore! 160