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and I fall forsaken, Unwept and unregarded, here; By death from caitiff hands o'ertaken, Nor ev'n one late avenger near!" Down to the earth the death-stroke bore him-- Hark, where the Cranes wheel dismal o'er him! He hears, as darkness veils his eyes, Near, in hoarse croak, their dirge-like cries. "Ye whose wild wings above me hover, (Since never voice, save yours alone, The deed can tell)--the hand discover-- Avenge!"--He spoke, and life was gone. Naked and maim'd the corpse was found-- And, still through many a mangling wound, The sad Corinthian Host could trace The loved--too well-remember'd face. "And must I meet thee thus once more? Who hoped with wreaths of holy pine, Bright with new fame--the victory o'er-- The Singer's temples to entwine!" And loud lamented every guest Who held the Sea-God's solemn feast-- As in a single heart prevailing, Throughout all Hellas went the wailing. Wild to the Council Hall they ran-- In thunder rush'd the threat'ning Flood-- "Revenge shall right the murder'd man, The last atonement-blood for blood!" Yet 'mid the throng the Isthmus claims, Lured by the Sea-God's glorious games-- The mighty many-nation'd throng-- How track the hand that wrought the wrong?-- How guess if that dread deed were done, By ruffian hands, or secret foes? He who sees all on earth--the SUN-- Alone the gloomy secret knows. Perchance he treads in careless peace, Amidst your Sons, assembled Greece; Hears with a smile revenge decreed; Gloats with fell joy upon the deed. His steps the avenging gods may mock Within the very Temple's wall, Or mingle with the crowds that flock To yonder solemn scenic[9] hall. Wedg'd close, and serried, swarms the crowd-- Beneath the weight the walls are bow'd-- Thitherwards streaming far, and wide, Broad Hellas flows in mingled tide tide-- A tide like that which heaves the deep When hollow-sounding, shoreward driven; On, wave on wave, the thousands sweep Till arching, row on row, to heaven! The tribes, the nations, who shall name, That guest-like, there assembled came? From Theseus' town, from Aulis' strand-- From Phocis, from the Spartans' land-- From Asia's wave-divided clime, The Isles that gem the AEgean Sea, To hearken on that Stage Sublime, The Dark Choir's mournful melody! True to the awful
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