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And those, the Ever-Virgin ones, I call,
Erinnyes dread that see all human deeds,
Swift-footed, that they mark how I am slain
By you Atreidae; may they seize on them.
Doers of evil, with all evil plagues
And uttermost destruction.
Sophocles: Ajax 937 [Plumptre].
Passing bits of Nature-Painting
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Thou firmament of God, and swift-wing'd winds,
Ye springs of rivers, and of ocean waves
That smile innumerous! Mother of us all,
O Earth, and Sun's all-seeing eye, behold,
I pray, what I a God from Gods endure.
Aeschylus: Prometheus 88 [Plumptre].
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A Sacred Spot
This spot is holy, one may clearly tell,
Full as it is of laurel, olive, vine.
And many a nightingale within sings sweetly.
Rest my limbs here upon this rough-hewn rock.
Sophocles: Oedipus at Colonus 16.
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A Grove of the Furies