The gods being with thee, mother Earth, and Justice
With triumph in her train. This prayer receive
And these libations. Ye, my friends, the while
Let your grief blossom in luxuriant wail,
Lifting the solemn pæan of the dead.
Chorus.[n14]
Flow! in plashing torrents flow!
Wretched grief for wretched master!
O’er this heaped mound freely flow,
Refuge of my heart’s disaster!