final motion: raising high their arms
"To heaven's o'erhanging stars, breathe out their last,
"Caught here by death, and there. Ah! me, what then
"My mind employ'd? What but to loathe my life,
"And pray with my dear countrymen to die?
"Whatever side mine eyes were bent, I saw
"My people strewn;--thick as the mellow fruit,
"Shook from the branches, or the acorns lie.
"Observe that temple, lofty where it towers;
"To Jove 'tis sacred. Who to that high fane
"Their useless incense brought not? There how oft
"Wife for her husband, parent for her child,
"Before th' inexorable altar, breath'd
"Their dying gasp, 'mid deprecating prayers;
"And half their incense unconsum'd remain'd.
"How oft the oxen to the temple dragg'd,
"While now the priest his voice address'd, and pour'd
"The goblet o'er their foreheads, have they dropp'd
"By stroke unlook'd for. When myself, to Jove
"Wish'd sacrifice to offer up; for me,
"My country, and my sons,--the victim loud
"Dire lowings utter'd, and without a blow
"Fell sudden,--scarce with blood the wounding knife
"Was stain'd. The morbid inwards mock'd our wish,
"To learn the truth, and pleasure of the gods:
"The deep-fixt plague had to the bowels pierc'd.
"Before the sacred portals have I seen,
"The corses spread; before the altars too,
"As death would come in his most hideous form.
"Some with the cord life's passage choke, and seek
"Death, lest they death should meet. Madly they rush
"And voluntary meet approaching fate.
"The bodies plung'd in death, funereal rites
"Custom'd, receiv'd not; nor the numerous dead
"Could all the gates receive: or un-inhum'd
"Above the earth they lie, or on the pyre
"Unhonor'd by due rites, the bodies flame.
"All sense of reverence lost, for piles they fight;
"And burn their dead in fires which others own.
"To mourn are none; unwept the shadows roam,
"Of young and old alike, of sons and sires.
"The ground for graves too small, for fires the woods.
"Aghast this whirlwind of distress to view,
"O, Jove!--I cry'd--if false they not report,
"That once you in AEgina's arms were clasp'd;--
"If not, O, mighty sire! asham'd to own
"Yourself my parent, give my people back,
"Or give me death with them. A rattling sign
"He gave, and prosperous thunders roll'd. I spoke;--
"These omens I accept; and pray these signs
"May indicate your happy will:--as pledge
"I take t