12
And those, the Ever-Virgin ones, I call,
Erinnyes dread that see all human deeds,
Swift-footed, that they mark how I am slain
By you Atreidae; may they seize on them.
Doers of evil, with all evil plagues
And uttermost destruction.
Sophocles: _Ajax_ 937 [Plumptre].
Passing bits of Nature-Painting
13
Thou firmament of God, 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 God from Gods 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, grass-grown grove,
Where blends with rivulet of honey'd stream
The cup of water clear.
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