Chapter V: Part 5

Ha, behold, already he rocks his head--he is off
from the starting place!
Not a word, as he rolls his frightful orbs,
from their sockets wrenched in the ghastly race!
And the breathings of him he tempers and times no more
than a bull in act to toss,
And hideously he bellows invoking the Keres, daughters of Tartaros.
Ay and I soon will dance thee madder, and pipe thee
quite out of thy mind with fear!
So, up with the famous foot, thou Iris,
march to Olu[y?]mpus, leave me here!
Me and mine, who now combine, in the dreadful shape no mortal sees,
And now are about to pass, from without,
inside of the home of Herakles!

CHORAL ODE

Otototoi,--groan: Away is mown
Thy flower, Zeus' offspring, City!
Unhappy Hellas, who dost cast (the pity!)
Who worked thee all the good,
Away from thee,--destroyest in a mood
Of Madness him, to death whom pipings dance!
There goes she, in her chariot,--groans, her brood
And gives her team the goad, as though adrift
For doom, Night's Gorgon, Madness, she whose glance
Turns man to marble! with what hissings lift
Their hundred heads the snakes, her head's inheritance!
Quick has the God changed fortune: through their sire
Quick will the children, that he saved, expire!
O miserable me! O Zeus! thy child--
Childless himself--soon vengeance, hunger-wild,
Craving for punishment, will lay how low--
Loaded with many a woe!
O palace-roofs! your courts about,
A measure begins all unrejoiced
By the tympanies and the thyrsos hoist
Of the Bromian revel-rout,
O ye domes! and the measure proceeds
For blood, not such as the cluster bleeds
Of the Dionusian pouring-out!
Break forth! fly, children! fatal this--
Fatal the lay that is piped, I wis!
Ay, for he hunts a children-chase--
Never shall madness lead her revel
And leave no trace in the dwelling-place!
Ai, ai, because of the evil!
Ai, ai, the old man--how I groan
For the father, and not the father alone!
She who was nurse of his children small,--small
Her gain that they never were born at all!
See! see!
A whirlwind shakes hither and thither
The house--the roof falls in together!
Ha, ha, what dost thou, son of Zeus?
A trouble of Tartaros broke loose,
Such as once Pallas on the Titan thundered,
Thou sendest on thy domes, roof-shattered and wall-sundered.

Ideas of Deity

5

None of mortal men
Escape unhurt by fortune, nor the gods,
Unless the stories of the bards be false.
Have they not formed connubial ties to which
No law assents? Have they not gall'd with chains
Their fathers through ambition? Yet they hold
Their mansions on Olympus, and their wrongs
With patience bear.
Euripides: _Hercules_ 1414.

6

These are your works, ye gods! these changes fraught
With horrible confusion, mingled thus
That we through ignorance might worship you.
Euripides: _Hecuba_ 943.

7

O supreme of heav'n,
What shall we say? that thy firm providence
Regards mankind? or vain the thoughts, which deem
That the just gods are rulers in the sky,
Since tyrant fortune lords it o'er the world?
Do. 470.

8

Mortal as I am
In virtue I exceed thee, though a god
Of mighty pow'r; for I have not betray'd
The sons of Hercules: well did'st thou know
To come by stealth unto my couch, t' invade
A bed not thine, nor leave obtain'd; to save
Thy friends thou dost not know; thou art a god
In wisdom or in justice little vers'd.
Euripides: _Hercules_ 385.

9

I deem not of the gods, as having form'd
Connubial ties to which no law assents,
Nor as oppressed with chains: disgraceful this
I hold, nor ever will believe that one
Lords it o'er others: of no foreign aid
The god, who is indeed a god, hath need:
These are the wretched fables of the bards.
Euripides: _Hercules_ 1444.

10

O Jove, who rulest the rolling of the earth,
And o'er it hast thy throne, whoe'er thou art,
The ruling mind, or the necessity
Of nature, I adore thee: dark thy ways,
And silent are thy steps; to mortal man
Yet thou with justice all things dost ordain.
Euripides: _Daughters of Troy_ 955.

Was this then human, or divine?
Did it a middle nature share?
What mortal shall declare?
Who shall the secret bounds define?
When the gods work we see their pow'r;
We see on their high bidding wait
The prosperous gales, the storms of fate:
But who their awful councils shall explore?
Euripides: _Helena_ 1235.

12

And those, the Ever-Virgin ones, I call,
Erinnyes dread that see all human deeds,
Swift-footed, that they mark how I am slain
By you Atreidae; may they seize on them.
Doers of evil, with all evil plagues
And uttermost destruction.
Sophocles: _Ajax_ 937 [Plumptre].

Passing bits of Nature-Painting

13

Thou firmament of God, and swift-wing'd winds,
Ye springs of rivers, and of ocean waves
That smile innumerous! Mother of us all,
O Earth, and Sun's all-seeing eye, behold,
I pray, what I a God from Gods endure.
Aeschylus: _Prometheus_ 88 [Plumptre].

14

_A Sacred Spot_

This spot is holy, one may clearly tell,
Full as it is of laurel, olive, vine.
And many a nightingale within sings sweetly.
Rest my limbs here upon this rough-hewn rock.
Sophocles: _Oedipus at Colonus_ 16.

15

_A Grove of the Furies_

Rush not on
Through voiceless, grass-grown grove,
Where blends with rivulet of honey'd stream
The cup of water clear.
Do. 156.

16

_A Meadow of Artemis_

Thee, goddess, to adorn I bring this crown
Inwoven with the various flowers that deck
The unshorn mead, where never shepherd dared
To feed his flock, and the scythe never came,
But o'er its vernal sweets unshorn the bee
Ranges at will, and hush'd in reverence glides
Th' irriguous streamlet: garish art hath there
No place; of these the modest still may cull
At pleasure, interdicted to th' impure.
Euripides: _Hippolytus_ 81.

17

_The Nile_

These are the streams of Nile, the joy of nymphs,
Glowing with beauty's radiance; he his floods
Swell'd with the melted snow o'er Egypt's plain
Irriguous pours, to fertilize her fields,
Th' ethereal rain supplying.
Euripides: _Helena_ 1.

18

_The Nightingale_

On thee, high-nested in the museful shade
By close-inwoven branches made,
Thee, sweetest bird, most musical
Of all that warble their melodious song
The charmed woods among,
Thee, tearful nightingale, I call:
O come, and from thy dark-plumed throat
Swell sadly-sweet thy melancholy note.
Euripides: _Helena_ 1191.

19

_Flight of Cranes_

O might we through the liquid sky
Wing'd like the birds of Lybia fly;
Birds, which the change of seasons know,
And, left the wintry storms and snow,
Their leader's well-known call obey.
O'er many a desert dry and cultured plain
He guides the marshall'd train,
And cheers with jocund notes their way.
Ye birds that through th' aerial height
Your course with clouds light-sailing share,
Your flight amidst the Pleiads hold,
And where Orion nightly flames in gold;
Then on Eurota's banks alight,
And this glad message bear:
"Your king from Troy shall reach once more,
With conquest crown'd, his native shore."
Euripides: _Helena_ 1603.

20

_A Storm_

So is it as a wave
Of ocean's billowing surge
(Where Thrakian storm-winds rave,
And floods of darkness from the depths emerge,)
Rolls the black sand from out the lowest deep,
And shores re-echoing wail, as rough blasts o'er them sweep.
Sophocles: _Antigone_ 586 [Plumptre].

21

Steering their rough course o'er this boisterous main,
Form'd in a ring beneath whose waves
The Nereid train in high-arch'd caves
Weave the light dance, and raise the sprightly song,
Whilst whisp'ring in their swelling sails
Soft Zephyrs breathe, or southern gales
Piping amidst their tackling play,
As their bark ploughs its wat'ry way
Those hoary cliffs, the haunts of birds, among,
To that wild strand, the rapid race
Where once Achilles deigned to grace.
Euripides: _Iphigenia among the Tauri_ 492.

(Specimens of Gnomic Verses)

22

Amongst barbarians all are slaves, save one.
_Helena_ 311.

23

He is no lover who not always loves.
_Daughters of Troy_ 1148.

24

What our necessities demand, becomes
Of greater moment than to conquer Troy.
_Andromache_ 427.

25

'Tis not the counsel, but the speaker's worth,
That gives persuasion to his eloquence.
_Hecuba_ 266.

26

Skilful leech
Mutters no spell o'er sore that needs the knife.
_Ajax_ 581.

27

It is through God that man or laughs or mourns.
_Ajax_ 385.

28

No mortal man
May therefore be call'd happy, till you see
The last of all his days, and how, that pass'd,
He to the realms of Pluto shall descend.
_Andromache_ 114.

29

All human things
A day lays low, a day lifts up again;
But still the gods love those of order'd soul.
_Ajax_ 130.