to the earth the earthly relics, the ashes of my deified sire,
and consecrated the altars of mourning. And now, if I 25
err not, the very day is here—that day which for me shall
ever be a day of weeping, ever a day of honour, since you,
ye gods, have willed it so. Though this day were to find
me among the Gætulian Syrtes a homeless wanderer—were
it to surprise me in the Argive main or in the streets 30
of Mycenæ—still would I pay my yearly vows and the
pomp of solemn observance, and would pile the altars with
their proper gifts. And now, behold, by an unsought