Part 20 (1/2)

13

Thou firmament of G.o.d, and swift-wing'd winds, Ye springs of rivers, and of ocean waves That smile innumerous! Mother of us all, O Earth, and Sun's all-seeing eye, behold, I pray, what I a G.o.d from G.o.ds endure.

Aeschylus: _Prometheus_ 88 [Plumptre].

14

_A Sacred Spot_

This spot is holy, one may clearly tell, Full as it is of laurel, olive, vine.

And many a nightingale within sings sweetly.

Rest my limbs here upon this rough-hewn rock.

Sophocles: _Oedipus at Colonus_ 16.

15

_A Grove of the Furies_

Rush not on Through voiceless, gra.s.s-grown grove, Where blends with rivulet of honey'd stream The cup of water clear.

Do. 156.

16

_A Meadow of Artemis_

Thee, G.o.ddess, to adorn I bring this crown Inwoven with the various flowers that deck The unshorn mead, where never shepherd dared To feed his flock, and the scythe never came, But o'er its vernal sweets unshorn the bee Ranges at will, and hush'd in reverence glides Th' irriguous streamlet: garish art hath there No place; of these the modest still may cull At pleasure, interdicted to th' impure.

Euripides: _Hippolytus_ 81.

17

_The Nile_

These are the streams of Nile, the joy of nymphs, Glowing with beauty's radiance; he his floods Swell'd with the melted snow o'er Egypt's plain Irriguous pours, to fertilize her fields, Th' ethereal rain supplying.

Euripides: _Helena_ 1.

18

_The Nightingale_

On thee, high-nested in the museful shade By close-inwoven branches made, Thee, sweetest bird, most musical Of all that warble their melodious song The charmed woods among, Thee, tearful nightingale, I call: O come, and from thy dark-plumed throat Swell sadly-sweet thy melancholy note.

Euripides: _Helena_ 1191.

19

_Flight of Cranes_

O might we through the liquid sky Wing'd like the birds of Lybia fly; Birds, which the change of seasons know, And, left the wintry storms and snow, Their leader's well-known call obey.

O'er many a desert dry and cultured plain He guides the marshall'd train, And cheers with jocund notes their way.

Ye birds that through th' aerial height Your course with clouds light-sailing share, Your flight amidst the Pleiads hold, And where Orion nightly flames in gold; Then on Eurota's banks alight, And this glad message bear: ”Your king from Troy shall reach once more, With conquest crown'd, his native sh.o.r.e.”

Euripides: _Helena_ 1603.