Page:Tragedies of Seneca (1907) Miller.djvu/173

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Dost shed thy light, whose beauteous face
Drives night away, O glowing Sun,
Grieve more than all. For equally 1060
Thy risings had Alcides seen,
And eke thy settings; both thy homes
Were known to him. His spirit loose
From monstrous madness; loose him, ye
Who rule above. His mind restore
To sanity again. And thou, 1065
O Sleep, subduer of our ills,
The spirit's rest, thou better part
Of human life, swift-winged one,
Astraea's child, of cruel Death
The sluggish brother, mixing false 1070
With true, prescient of future things,
But oftenest of misery;
O sire of all things, gate of life,
Day's respite and the comrade true
Of night, who com'st impartially
To king and slaves, with gentle hand
The wearied spirit comforting; 1075
Thou who dost force the race of men
Who quail at mortal doom, to gain
A foretaste of the sleep of death:
Subdue and overwhelm him quite
With heavy stupor; let his limbs,
Unconquered hitherto, be held
Fast bound in chains of deepest sleep;
Take not the spell from his fierce heart, 1080
Until his former mind return
To its accustomed course.
But see, prone on the ground he lies,
His savage dreams in his fierce heart
Still hold their sway. Not yet, alas,
Is his dire madness overcome.
Accustomed to recline his head 1085
Upon his heavy club, see now,
He feels about with empty hand
To find the ponderous trunk, his arms