Creon
STRO. 2.
ANTIS. 2.
631cont2
Shall man's presumptuous pride control
Thy pow'r, O sovereign ruler of the skies?
Enfeebling sleep ne'er closed thy eyes :
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The months of gods of toil unconscious roll;
And time, that leads old age along
Withering the vigour of the strong,
Beholds thee, glorious in immortal might,
High-throned in heav'n's resplendent light.
But this firm law, ordain'd through ages past,
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Is now, and will for ever last;
No state to mortals shall remain
From wasting ills secure, and sorrow's sickly train.
Yet Hope oft waves her wanton wings
And flattering dreams of distant joy inspires;
Oft o'er man's gay and light desires
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The dreary gloom of blank illusion flings;
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Forward with eager pace he goes;
He hath no sense of latent woes,
Till on the treacherous fires he treads aghast.
Well said the Sage in ages past,
Ills they misdeem as good, whose darkling mind
The god to misery hath assigned;...
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Heedless awhile through life they stray,
But ruin couches close to spring upon its prey.
See Hæmon comes, the youngest of thy sons,
Oppress'd with sorrow for the virgin's fate,
And grieving of his bride to be deprived.
We soon shall know more certain than the Seers.
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style its elevation, are represented as three persons cutting down this last
branch of the imperial stem.
Vid. Valckanaer. in Eurip. Phœniss.
Hearing the sentence we have firmly pass'd
On her that should have been thy bride, my son,
Enraged against thy father art thou come,
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Or doing this am I still dear to thee?
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My father, [ am thine: be thou my guide
Where honour calls; to follow shall be mine.
With me no nuptials ever shall be deem'd
Of higher import than thy just commands.
Thus it behoves thee from thy heart, my son,
A father more than all things to revere.
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This is the pride, the glory of a man,
To train obedient children in his house,
Prompt on his enemies t' avenge his wrongs,
And with the father's zeal in honour high
To hold his friends. But he, who nurtures sons
That in the hour of trial from his aid
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Shrink spiritless and weak, hath to himself
Engender'd grief, and slaughter to his foes.
Then do not for a woman now, my son,
Debase thy noble mind; be not a slave
To pleasure: cold is the embrace of her
Who shares thy nuptial bed, if baseness taint
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