Woe to the wretch, by their wrath smitten![n57]
With strokes he knows not whence descending,
Not for his own, for guilt inherited,[n58]
They with silent-footed vengeance
Shall o’ertake him: in the dust,
Heaven with piercing cries imploring,
Crushed the sinner lies.
ANTISTROPHE I.
Chorus.
Far from thy dwelling, and far from thy border,
By the grace of my godhead benignant I order