Megara.
But ah the gnawing anguish of suspense!
Amphitryon.
Daughter, a fair-wind course may yet befall 95
From storms of present ills for thee and me.
Yet may he come—my son, thy lord, may come.
Nay, calm thee: stop the fountains welling tears
Of these thy sons, and soothe them with thy words,
Cheating them with a fable—piteous cheat! 100
Sooth, men's afflictions weary of their work,
And tempest-blasts not alway keep their force;
The prosperous are not prosperous to the end;
For all things fleet and yield each other place.
He is the hero, who in steadfast hope 105
Trusts on : despair is but the coward's part.
Enter Chorus, leaning on their staves, and climbing the ascent to the altar.
Chorus.
(Str.)
Unto the stately temple-roofs, whereby
The ancient coucheth on the ground,
Bowed o'er a propping staff, a chanter I
Whose song rings sorrow round, 110
Like some hoar swan I come—a voice, no more,
Like to a night-dream's phantom-show,
Palsied with eld, yet loyal as of yore
To friends of long ago.
Hail, children fatherless! Hail, ancient, thou!
Hail, mother bowed 'neath sorrow's load,
