Stroph. I.
Chor. Freshly they come on me,
Fresh ills, and burdens grievous to be borne,
From this blind wanderer, unless, perchance,
His destiny comes on him:1450
For what the Gods decree I cannot count
As done in vain. Time evermore looks on,
And sees these things, now overturning some,
And now, within a day, exalting them.
Ο Zeus, the high heaven thunders!
Œdip. My children, oh, that some one, present here,
Would call back Theseus, best and noblest, hither!
Antig. What is thy purpose, father, that thou call'st him?
Œdip. This wingèd thunder sent from Zeus, will lead me1460
Straightway to Hades. Make good speed to send.
the remainder of the Choral Ode.
Antistroph. I.
Chor. So the loud thunder crashes,
Hurled forth from Zeus, with dread unspeakable,
And fear creeps up to every topmost hair.
I tremble in my soul:
For lo! the fire from heaven has blazed again.
What will the end be? Much I fear. In vain
It never comes, nor without issue dread.1470
Ο mighty heaven! Ο Zeus!
Œdip. My children! now the destined end of life
Is come to him who stands here: flight is none.
Antig. How know'st thou this? What token comes to thee?
Œdip. I know right well. But, oh, let some one fetch,
Losing no time, the ruler of the land!
