Chorus.
A Persian of the Persians,
The very eye of thee,
Who mustered men by thousands ten
Alpistus, where is he?
The son of Batanochus,
The son of Sesamas,
The son of Megabates;—
Parthus and Oibaras,
Art thou returned without them?
And will they come no more?
And lie they there forsaken
On that disastrous shore?
Alas! what need of language?
The trouble of thy face
Proclaims this woe beyond all woes
To Persia's sceptred race!
Xerxes.
Wring not my heart! Rouse not again
That insupportable refrain
For friends cut off and comrades slain.
Though sharp your pang and shrill your cry of dole
There is a louder voice that wails within my soul.
Chorus.
But many, many more I miss!
Xanthes of Mardian clans
Chieftain; and Anchares, who led
The valiant Arians;
And Arsames and Diæxis,
Lords of the lordly steed,
And Dadacas and Lythimnas,
