Loosed is my strength of thew,
These elders meeting face to face.
Would that, O Zeus, me too,
With the brave men laid low, 900
Death's doom had veiled in night.
Chorus.
Woe, king, for our brave army! Woe
For honours vast of Persia's reign,
Her warriors of renown,
Whom Fate hath now mown down!
Earth mourns her martial bloom,
Growth of her soil, by Xerxes slain,
Who crowds with Persians Hades' gloom.
†Full many chiefs, our country's flower,
Lords of the conquering bow,
Now tread the paths of doom, 910
For multitudinous the power
Of men by death laid low.
Woe for our trusty forces! woe!
For Asia's land, upon her knee,
In direful fall, O king! sinks direfully.
Xerxes. Strophe I.
Ah, miserable me,
Worthy of pity, wretched, born to be
To race and fatherland a direful ill.
1st Chorus.
And I, thy home-return to hail,
An evil-omened dirge will trill,
