Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/165

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As when they crowd the Pisan fields 840
When the fifth summer brings again
The Elean Thunderer's sacred games;
As, when the lengthening nights return,
And the balanced Scales the sun's bright car
Detain, to gentle sleep inclined,
The people throng the mysteries 845
Of Ceres, while the Attic priests
Lead through the fields with hurried steps
The worshipers: such thronging hordes
Are driven through those silent plains.
A part goes slow with steps of age,
Sadly, and sated with the years; 850
Some, in the earlier flush of life,
Advance with the sprightly step of youth,
Young maids not yet in wedlock joined,
And boys with flowing ringlets, babes,
Who have not yet learned to repeat
Their mother's name. To these alone 855
'Tis given to dispel the night
With torches, and their fears relieve.
The rest in utter darkness fare,
And sadness. So our spirits mourn,
When each one, grieving o'er his fate,
Feels crushed in darkness 'neath the weight 860
Of all the world. There chaos reigns,
Repulsive glooms, the hateful dark
Of night, the empty veil of clouds,
The weary inactivity
Of that still, empty universe.
Oh, may the time far distant be
When old age bears us to that land.
None come too late, and ne'er can he, 865
Who once has come, return again.
What need to hasten cruel fate?
For all the wandering tribes of earth
Shall surely seek the land of shades,
And on the still Cocytus spread
Their sails; all things the sun beholds, 870