English

O divine Urania's son,
Haunter of mount Helicon,
Thou that mak'st the virgin go
To the man, for all her no,
Hymen Hymenaeus O;
Slip thy snowy feet in socks
Yellow-tinged, and girt thy locks
With sweet-flowered margerum,
And in saffron veil, O come;
Meet the day with dancing pleasure,
Singing out a nuptial measure,
And with fine hand at the air
Shake the pine-torch with a flare.
...
Let the song to Hymen flow,
Hymen, Hymenaeus O!

Thee the anxious parent blesses,

O DIVINE Urania's son,
Haunter of Mount Helicon,
Thou that mak'st the virgin go
To the man, for all her no,
Hymen, Hymenaeus O;
Slip thy snowy feet in socks
Yellow-tinged, and girt thy locks
With sweet-flowered margerum,
And in saffron veil, O come;
Meet the day with dancing pleasure,
Singing out a nuptial measure,
And with fine hand at the air
Shake the pine-torch with a flare.
For to-day (so Beauty's Queen
Came to Paris to be seen)
Julia will her Manlius wed,
Good with good, a blessed bed:

Mercurius . Since Esculapius
That Urinal, restored god Plutus eyes,
Men have almost forgot to sacrifice:
But they were wont to offer Hasty-puddings,
Spice-cakes and many dainties; nay I know
Some that have spent whole Hecatombs of Beef
To give the gods their gawdies: now they'd be glad
To eat the very brewesse of the pottage;

Plutus . Good morrow to the morn next to my gold:
First bright Apollo , I salute thy rayes,
And next the earth, Minerva's sacred land,
Truly Cecropian soile, Athenian city.
How my soule blushes, and with grief remembers
My miserable blindnesse! wretched Plutus ,
Whose hood-winkt ignorance made thy guilty feet
Stumble into the company of Rascals,

" THE Frogs . "

Chorus . Eftsoons shall dire anger interne be the Thunderer's portion
When his foe's glib tusk fresh-whetted for blood he descries;
Then fell shall his heart be, and mad; and a pallid distortion
Descend as a cloud on his eyes.

Yea, words with plumes wild on the wind and with helmets a-glancing,
With axles a-splinter and marble a-shiver, eftsoons
Shall bleed, as a man meets the shock of a Thought-builder's prancing

" THE Frogs . "

D IONYSOS , his slave X ANTHIAS , C HARON , and C HORUS .

Dionysos . What is that?
Xanthias . That? A lake.
Dionysos . By Zeus, it is!
The mere he spoke of.
Xanthias . Yes; I see a boat.
Dionysos . Yes, by the powers!
Xanthias . And yonder must be Charon.
Dionysos . Charon, ahoy!

" THE F ROGS. "

Dionysos. But why I came in these especial trappings —
Disguised as you, in fact — was this: I want you
To tell me all the hosts with whom you stayed
That time you went to fetch up Cerberus:
Tell me your hosts, your harbours, bakers' shops,
Inns, taverns, — reputable and otherwise —
Springs, roads, towns, posts, and landladies that keep
The fewest fleas.
Heracles . Bold man, and will you dare ...

Dionysos . C'wa nou, what wey suld I chap o this door?
I wonner what's the hereaboot style o chappin.
XANTHIAS . Dinna waste time, but bauldly pree the door,
you wi the guise and smeddum of Herakles.
DION . Answer the door, slave.
[ Enter Aiakos, ane o the Judges o the Deid. ]
AIAKOS . Wha's there?
DION . Teuch guy Herakles.
AIAK . Ye scunnersome, ootrageous skellum, you,
mischievous villain, bluidie blagyart, you,

In the long silence of the sea, the seaman
Strikes twice his bell of bronze. The short note wavers
And loses itself in the blue realm of water.
One sea-gull, paired with a shadow, wheels, wheels;
Circles the lonely ship by wave and trough;
Lets down his feet, strikes at the breaking water,
Draws up his golden feet, beats wings, and rises
Over the mast. Light from a crimson cloud
Crimsons the sluggishly creeping foams of waves;
The seaman, poised in the bow, rises, falls,
As the deep forefoot finds a way through waves;

Heaven, you say, will be a field in April,
A friendly field, a long green wave of earth,
With one domed cloud above it. There you'll lie
In noon's delight, with bees to flash above you,
Drown amid buttercups that blaze in the wind,
Forgetting all save beauty. There you'll see
With sun-filled eyes your one great dome of cloud
Adding fantastic towers and spires of light,
Ascending, like a ghost, to melt in the blue.
Heaven enough, in truth, if you were there!
Could I be with you, I would choose your noon,