Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/423

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That came not to follow his banner's guiding,
When to win the Belt of the Warrior Queen,
The golden clasp of the mantle vest,
He marched far north on a death-fraught quest?
And the wild maid's spoils for a glory abiding
Greece won: in Mycenæ they yet shall be seen.
X.And the myriad heads he seared
Of the Hydra-fiend with flame, 420
Of the murderous hound Lyrnæan:
XI.With its venom the arrows he smeared
That stung through the triple frame
Of the herdman-king Erythæan.
(Ant. 3)
Many courses beside hath he run, ever earning
Triumph; but now to the dolorous land,
XII.Unto Hades, hath sailed for his last toil-strife;
And there hath he quenched his light of life
Utterly—woe for the unreturning! 430
And of friends forlorn doth thy dwelling stand;
And waits for thy children Charon's oar
By the river that none may repass any more,
Whither godless wrong hath sped them: and yearning
We strain our eyes for a vanished hand.
But if mine were the youth and the might
Of old—were mine old friends here,
Might my spear but in battle be shaken,
I had championed thy children in fight:—
But mid desolate days and drear 440
I am left, of my youth forsaken!

Lo where they come!—the shrouds of burial cover

Each one,—the children of that Herakles