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Medea
107

Which drank the poisoned blood of dying Hercules;
And here the fatal billet that Althaea burned
In vengeance on her son. These plumes the Harpies left 780
Within their caverned lair when Zetes drove them forth;
And these the feathers of that vile Stymphalian bird
Which arrows, dipped in Lerna's deadly poison, pierced.

But lo! mine altar fires resound!
While in the tripod's answering voice 785
Behold the present deity!
I see the car of Trivia,
Not full and clear as when she drives
The livelong night to meet the dawn;
But with a baleful, lurid glare,
As, harried by Thessalian cries, 790
She holds a more restricted course.
Send such uncanny light abroad!
Fill mortals with a dread unknown;
And let our Corinth's priceless bronze
Resound, Dictynna, for thy aid! 795
To thee a solemn sacrifice
On bloody altar do we pay!
To thee, snatched from the mournful tomb,
The blazing torch nocturnal burns;
On thee I call with tossing head, 800
And many a frantic gesture make;
Corpselike upon the bier I lie,
My hair with priestly fillet bound;
Before thy awful shrine is waved
The branch in Stygian waters dipped.

And, calling on thy name, with gleaming shoulders bared, 805
Like Bacchus' mad adorers, will I lash my arms
With sacrificial knife. Now let my life-blood flow!
And let my hands be used to draw the deadly sword,
And learn to shed belove'd blood!
[She cuts her arm and lets the blood flow upon the altar.]
Behold, self-stricken have I poured the sacrifice! 810

But if too oft upon thy name I call,
I pray forgive this importunity!
The cause, O Hecate, of all my prayers