Hath he who newly reigns,
Chief of the blest, devised against me. Woe!
Ah woe! the torture of the hour
I wail, ay, and of anguish'd throes
The future dower.
How, when, shall rise a limit to these woes?
And yet what say I? clearly I foreknow
Prometheus Bound. Aeschylus. Anna Swanwick (Translator). London. 1886.
Sponsored by University of Leipzig.
Funding provided by European Social Fund Saxony.