And storms, sublimely coursing, scare
The fields of the silent sky.
ANTISTROPHE I.
But Earth begets no monster dire
Than man’s own heart more dreaded,
All-venturing woman’s dreadful ire,[n46]
When love to woe is wedded.
No mate with mate there gently dwells,
There peace and joy depart,
Where loveless love triumphant swells,