Their branches hang denuded of their fruits; 110
And where but late the Isthmus echoed back
The loud resounding waters near at hand,
Their neighboring waves by but a narrow span
Dividing, now have all the waves withdrawn
Far seaward, and their voice is faintly heard
Upon the shore. Now Lerna backward shrinks, 115
The streams of Inachus have hidden away,
The sacred Alpheus sends his waters forth
No longer, and Cithaeron lifts no more
Its hoary head, for all its snows are gone;
While they who dwell in noble Argos fear
Their ancient thirst again. E'en Titan's self
Stands doubtful whether he shall bid his steeds 120
Run their accustomed course and bring the day,
Foredoomed by thee to perish on the way.
[They vanish.]
Chorus: If any god for Argos cares,
And Pisa's realm for chariots famed;
If any loves the Isthmian state
Of Corinth, with its double ports,
And two opposing seas; 125
If any joys in the far-seen snows
Of Mount Taygetus, which lie
Heaped on his loftiest peaks what time
The wintry blasts of Boreas blow,
But which the summer melts again
When breathe the soft Etesian winds,
Sail filling; if the Alpheus bright
With its cool, clear stream moves any god, 130
Far famed for its Olympic course—
Let him his peaceful godhead turn
To our affairs; let him avert
This dread inheritance of crime;
Forbid that in his grandsire's steps
The grandson follow, worse than he;
And let not worse monstrosities
Please generations yet to be. 135
