Away with her;
Defile the face of heaven with murder's stain,
Defile the shades.—But why make prayer to you?1005
I'll rather pray the sea whose savage rage
Befits these bloody rites; the selfsame doom,
Which for my ship I pray and prophesy,
May that befall the thousand ships of Greece,
And so may evil fate engulf them all.
Chorus: 'Tis sweet for one in grief to know