Who mournest for thy lord long absent now
In the Unseen King's abode!
(Ant.)
Let feet not faint, nor let the tired limbs trail
Heavy, as when uphillward strain, 120
Trampling the stones, a young steed's feet that hale
The massy four-wheel wain.
Lay hold on helping hand, on vesture's fold,
Whoso hath failing feet that grope
Blindly:—thy brother, ancient, thou uphold
Up this steep temple-slope,
Thy friend, who once mid toils of battle-peers
Shoulder to shoulder, did not shame—
When thou and he were young, when clashed the spears,—
His country's glorious name.
(Epode.)
Mark ye how dragon-like glaring 130
As the eyes of the sire whom we knew
Are the eyes of the sons!—and unsparing
His hard lot followeth too
His sons; and the kingly mien
Of the sire in the children is seen.
O Hellas, if thou uncaring
Beholdest them slain, what a band
Of champions is lost to our land!
But lo, the ruler of this land I see,
Lykus, unto these mansions drawing nigh.
Enter Lykus.
Lykus.
Thee, sire of Herakles, and thee, his wife, 140
