The Voice that bade us all to bring to light
The unknown guilty one;
Each forest wild, each rocky shore,
Like untamed bull, he wanders o'er,
In dreary loneliness with dreary tread,
Seeking to shun dark oracles and dread,
From Delphi's central shrine;
And yet they hover round with life and strength divine.
Stroph. II.
Dread things, yea, dread the augur wise hath stirred;
I know not or to answer Aye, or No;
In vain, perplexed, I seek the fitting word,
And lost in fears nor past nor future know:
What cause of strife so fell
Between the son of Polybos hath come,
And those, the heirs of old Labdakid home,
I have found none to tell:
From none comes well-tried word,
That I should war against the glory great
Of Œdipus my lord,
Or make myself the avenger of an unknown fate.
Antistroph. II.
Yet Zeus and King Apollo, they are wise,
And know the secret things that mortals do;
But that a prophet sees with clearer eyes
Than these I see with, is no judgment true.
Though one in wisdom high
May wisdom of another far excel;
Yet I, until I see it 'stablished well,
Will ne'er take up the cry:
One thing is clear, she came,
The wingèd maiden,—and men found him wise;
