But the Souls that Persephone cleanses from ancient pollution and
stain,
These at the end of the age be they prince, be they singer, or
seer;
These to the world, shall be born as of old, shall be sages again;
These of their hands shall be hardy, shall live, and shall die,
and shall hear
Thanks of the people, and songs of the minstrels that praise them
amain,
And their glory shall dwell in the land where they dwelt, while
year calls unto year!
DEATH--(AEsch., Fr., 156.)
Of all Gods Death alone
Disdaineth sacrifice:
No man hath found or shown
The gift that Death would prize.
In vain are songs or sighs,
Paaen, or praise, or moan,
Alone beneath the skies
Hath Death no altar-stone!
There is no head so dear
That men would grudge to Death;
Let Death but ask, we give
All gifts that we may live;
But though Death dwells so near,
We know not what he saith.
NYSA--(Soph., Fr., 235; AEsch., Fr., 56.)
On these Nysaean shores divine
The clusters ripen in a day.
At dawn the blossom shreds away;
The berried grapes are green and fine
And full by noon; in day's decline
They're purple with a bloom of grey,
And e'er the twilight plucked are they,
And crushed, by nightfall, into wine.
But through the night with torch in hand
Down the dusk hills the Maenads fare;
The bull-voiced mummers roar and blare,
The muffled timbrels swell and sound,
And drown the clamour of the band
Like thunder moaning underground.
Pages:
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53