And progeny of Tethys.[1] Hence we call, 300
Gods, on your guardian band;—
Into the powers outside our towers
Sending the coward's deadly fear,
Which fatuous casts the shield away,
Earn for these burghers glory. Hear,
Oh hear my shrill-voiced wailings and retain,
As Saviours of our State, your stedfast reign.
Strophe II.
For sad it were, before its time 310
To hurl, enslaved, as booty of the spear,
A city famed of old, to Hades drear,
In crumbling ashes laid by Argive foe,
Through heaven's high will, in shameful overthrow;
That women old and virgins in their prime
Like horses by their hair be dragged, ah me,
Their robes around them rent, to slavery.
Waileth the city emptied of its store,
While captives, to destruction led 320
Lamenting, swell the mingled roar.
This heavy doom forebodingly I dread.
Antistrophe II.
For maids whose bloom is at the full,
Before the rites the scarce ripe fruit that cull,
