Its hiding-place. Oh, woe invincible
As Hercules! But whence these grievous cries?1265
And whence these tears which trickle down my cheeks?
My face, unmoved by grief, has never yet
Been wet with tears; but now, Oh, shame to me,
Has learned to weep. Where is the day, the land,
That has beheld the tears of Hercules?
Dry-eyed have I my troubles ever borne.
To thee alone, dire pest, to thee alone1270
That strength has yielded which so many ills