When blent with the flutes light laughters awaken, 380
And the children of care have forgotten to weep,
Whensoever revealed is the cluster's splendour
In the banquet that men to the high Gods tender,
And o'er ivy-wreathed revellers drinking deep
The wine-bowl droppeth the mantle of sleep.
(Ant. 1)
Of the reinless lips that will own no master,
Of the folly o'er law's pale stubborn to stray—
One is the end of them, even disaster;
But the calm life, still as a summer day,
But the foot whose faring discretion guideth, 390
Their steadfast state unshaken abideth,
And the home still findeth in such its stay.
Ah, the Heavenly Ones dwell far away,
Yet look they on men from their cloudy portals.
Ah, not with knowledge is Wisdom bought;
And the spirit that soareth too high for mortals
Shall see few days: whosoever hath caught
At the things too great for a man's attaining,
Even blessings assured shall he lose in the gaining.
Such paths as this, meseemeth, be sought 400
Of the witless folly that roves distraught.
(Str. 2)
O to flee hence unto where Aphroditê
Doth in Cyprus, the paradise-island, dwell,
The sea-ringed haunt of the Love-gods mighty
To weave the soul-enchanting spell,
Or the fields where untold is the harvest's gold,
Whereover the seven-mouthed river hath rolled,
Whereon rain never fell!
But O for the land that in beauty is peerless,[1]
- ↑ Macedonia; where, at the court of king Archelaus, Euripides composed this play, and where the bacchanalian rites were celebrated with great enthusiasm.
