Epops
From within; singing.
Chase off drowsy sleep, dear companion.
Let the sacred hymn gush from thy divine throat in melodious strains; roll forth in soft cadence your refreshing melodies to bewail the fate of Itys, which has been the cause of so many tears to us both.
210
Your pure notes rise through the thick leaves of the yew-tree right up to the throne of Zeus, where Phoebus listens to you, Phoebus with his golden hair. And his ivory lyre responds to your plaintive accents;
215
he gathers the choir of the gods and from their immortal lips pours forth a sacred chant of blessed voices.
220
Birds. Aristophanes. Anonymous (Translator), ed. Eugene O'Neill, Jr., ed. Whitney J. Oates, ed. Eugene O'Neill, Jr.. New York. 1938.
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