In rising and in setting, grow
But to decay. Then spare, O death,
Those who are doomed to come to thee.
Life is but practicing for death;
Though thou be slow in coming, still
We hasten of ourselves. The hour
Which gave us life begins our death.
The joyful day of Thebes is here; 875
Now at the altars sacrifice,
And let the choicest victims fall.
Ye maids and men, in mingled bands
Begin the stately choral dance;
And let the cattle of the fields 880
Put off their yokes and be glad today;
For by the hand of Hercules
Has peace from east to west been won,
And in that land where the sun rides high
In middle heaven, and the shadows fail. 885
Whatever region Tethys laves
In her long reach has been o'ercome
By great Alcides' toils. Borne now
Across the shoals of Tartarus,
With hell subdued, he comes again. 890
No room is left for fear; for what
Beyond the world of death remains?
And now ye priests, adorn your bristling hair
With poplar which Alcides loves to wear.
ACT IV
[Enter Hercules, fresh from the slaying of Lycus, intending to offer
sacrifices to the gods.]
Hercules: By my avenging hand lies Lycus slain; 895
And all, who in his life the tyrant claimed
As comrades, now by death are comrades still
In punishment. Now will I offerings pay
Unto my father and the gods of heaven
For victory, and heap the altars high
With bleeding victims to their kindness due.
Thee, thee, O friend and helper in my toils, 900
