So even I am borne along
Beyond the bounds that law uprears,
And, seeing this, am no more strong
To stay the fountain of my tears;
For lo! Antigone doth tread
The path to that wide couch where slumber all the dead.
Antigone.
Stroph. II.
Yes, Ο my friends and countrymen, ye see
How I my last path tread,
And look on the last ray of brilliancy
By yonder bright sun shed,—
This once, but never more; for Hades vast,
Drear home of all the dead,
Leads me, in life, where Acheron flows fast,
Sharing no marriage bed:
No marriage hymn was mine in all the past,
But Acheron I wed.
Chorus.
And dost thou not depart,
Glorious, with highest praise,
To where the dead are gathered in the gloom,
Not smitten by the wasting plague's fell dart,
Nor slain, as sharp sword slays?
But free and living still,
Thou, of thine own free will,
Descendest to the darkness of the tomb.
Antigone.
Antistroph. II.
I heard of one, the child of Tantalos,
The Phrygian, crushed with woes,
