View:
By Card
CHORUS.
Now Adrasteia
1
be near and guard
Our lips from sin, lest the end be hard!
But he cometh, he cometh, the Child of the River!
The pride of my heart it shall roll unbarred.
345
We craved thy coming; yea, need was strong
In the Hall of thy lovers, O child of Song;
Thy mother the Muse and her fair-bridged River
They held thee from us so long, so long!
2
Now Adrasteia
1
be near and guard
Our lips from sin, lest the end be hard!
But he cometh, he cometh, the Child of the River!
The pride of my heart it shall roll unbarred.
345
We craved thy coming; yea, need was strong
In the Hall of thy lovers, O child of Song;
Thy mother the Muse and her fair-bridged River
They held thee from us so long, so long!
CHORUS.
By Strymon’s torrent alone she sang,
And Strymon shivered and coiled and sprang;
And her arms went wide to the wild sweet water,
And the love of the River around her rang.
We hail thee, Fruit of the River’s seed,
355
Young Zeus of the Dawn, on thy starry steed!
O ancient City, O Ida’s daughter,
Is God the Deliverer found indeed?
3
By Strymon’s torrent alone she sang,
And Strymon shivered and coiled and sprang;
And her arms went wide to the wild sweet water,
And the love of the River around her rang.
We hail thee, Fruit of the River’s seed,
355
Young Zeus of the Dawn, on thy starry steed!
O ancient City, O Ida’s daughter,
Is God the Deliverer found indeed?
CHORUS.
And men shall tell of thee,
Ilion
mine,
360
Once more a-harping at day’s decline,
’Mid laughing of lovers and lays and dances
And challenge on challenge of circling wine?
When the Greek is smitten that day shall be,
And fled to
Argolis
over the sea:
365
O mighty of hand, O leader of lances,
Smite him, and heaven be good to thee!
4
And men shall tell of thee,
Ilion
mine,
360
Once more a-harping at day’s decline,
’Mid laughing of lovers and lays and dances
And challenge on challenge of circling wine?
When the Greek is smitten that day shall be,
And fled to
Argolis
over the sea:
365
O mighty of hand, O leader of lances,
Smite him, and heaven be good to thee!
CHORUS.
Thou Rider golden and swift and sheer,
370
Achilles falters: appear! appear!
The car like flame where the red shield leapeth,
The fell white steeds and the burning spear!
No Greek shall boast he hath seen thy face
And danced again in the dancing place;
375
And the land shall laugh for the sheaves she reapeth,
Of spoilers dead by a sword from
Thrace
.
5
Thou Rider golden and swift and sheer,
370
Achilles falters: appear! appear!
The car like flame where the red shield leapeth,
The fell white steeds and the burning spear!
No Greek shall boast he hath seen thy face
And danced again in the dancing place;
375
And the land shall laugh for the sheaves she reapeth,
Of spoilers dead by a sword from
Thrace
.
Rhesus. Euripides. Gilbert Murray (Translator). London. 1913.
Sponsored by Perseus Project, Tufts University.