Over sandy leagues of the waste seashore....

Whither alas, ah woe is me

When shall my wandering end?

“What, O what was the sin in me,

O son of Cronos, that thou didst find?

Why hast thou doomed me thus to suffer

By the gadfly’s goad still onward driven,

Weary of fleeing, distraught with dread?...

Enough I have wandered—

Wandered afar till my strength is spent;