On thee I call, our sun-god, Helios,
Tell this, where now he dwells,
Alcmena's noble son, (Thou ever bright,
In sheen of glory clad;)
Or in the sea's deep glades,
Or taking rest in either continent?[1]100
Tell this, Ο Lord, whose eye
Sees with surpassing might.
Antistroph. I.
For, lo! I hear that Deianeira still,
Once wooed in many a strife,
Now like a wailing bird,
With sad and sore-vexed heart,
Can never lull to rest the strong desire
Of eyes undimmed with tears,
But ever nurses unforgetting dread
As to her husband's paths,
And wastes her life in anxious, widowed couch,110
Still looking, in her woe,
For doom of coming ill;
Stroph. II.
For as one sees, when North or South wind blows
In strength invincible,
Full many a wave upon the ocean wide,
Sweeping and rushing on,
So like a Cretan sea,
The stormy grief of life
Now bringeth low the son of Cadmos old,[2]
Now lifts him up again;
