How fondly ye interpreted my dream!
Natheless, since here at least your oracle
Fails not, I will go pray, first to the Gods;
Then I will take the sacred elements,—
Offerings to earth, oblations to the dead,—
And come to you again. Things past I know;
But I would fain inquire if what's to come
Promises better fortune. Lend your aid:
With men of trust true counsel take, I charge ye;
And, if our son return in the meantime,
Console him and escort him to our house,
Lest that on woe there follow further woe.
Chorus.
O Zeus, thou art king! There is none thee beside!
Thou hast shattered our host and humbled our pride!
Thou hast darkened with grief the light of thy day
O'er Susa and Ecbatana!
They have rent their thin veils, their kerchiefs thread-drawn,
Our delicate mourners; their wimples of lawn
They have drenched with salt tears; the young wife newly-wed
Looks out for her lord, but he comes not; her bed,
Laid soft with fair linen, where love had his bliss,
Standeth vacant; cold sorrow their banqueter is;
But they rise up an-hungered, though they sit long;
And I too o'er the fallen would utter my song.
This earth, this Asia, wide as east from west,
Mourns—empty,—of her manhood dispossessed.
Xerxes the King led forth his war-array!
Xerxes the King hath cast his host away!
