Upon the bold and subtle hands of men....
Nay, though they parents be,
Yet all shall be fulfilled.
Strophe V
Chor. May it be mine to chant o'er funeral pyre
[*]Cry well accordant with the pine-fed blaze,[[427]]
When first the man is slain,
And his wife perisheth!
380
Why should I hide what flutters round my heart?