Chorus
O my country, O my own dear home! God grant I may never be an outcast from my city,
leading that cruel helpless life, whose every day is misery. Ere that may I this life complete and yield to death, ay, death;
645
for there is no misery that doth surpass the loss of fatherland.
650
Medea. Euripides. Edward P. Coleridge (Translator). London. 1906.
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