947–1043.
Stroph. I.
Which calleth first for lament?
What grief takes widest extent?
Hard question this to decide for me in my measureless woe!
Antistroph. I.
Some sorrows dwell with us near,
And some we await in our fear,
And the present and future alike in one common dreariness flow.
Stroph. II.
Ah! would that some gale, blowing soft,
Would come on my hearth and my home,
And bear me away, far aloft,
Where never the terror might come,—
Terror that makes the life fail—
Of seeing the strong son of Zeus—
Yes, seeing him (so runs the tale)
In pain that none may unloose,
Come to his home, smitten low,
A marvel and portent of woe.
Antistroph. II.
Nearer—no longer from far,
I wail him as nightingale wails;
The tread of strange footsteps I hear. . . .
But how is he brought? As one fails,
Wrapt in his care for a friend,
