Awake, O my feet, awake:  [Antistrophe. 
  Our father’s hope is won! 
    Dance as the dancing skies
    Over him, where he lies
  Happy beneath the sun!... 
Lo, the Ring that I make....

[She makes a circle round her with a torch, and visions appear to her.

Apollo!...  Ah, is it thou? 
  O shrine in the laurels cold,
  I bear thee still, as of old,
Mine incense!  Be near to me now.

[She waves the torch as though bearing incense.

O Hymen, Hymen fleet: 
  Quick torch that makest one!... 
  How?  Am I still alone? 
Laugh as I laugh, and twine
In the dance, O Mother mine: 
  Dear feet, be near my feet!

Come, greet ye Hymen, greet
  Hymen with songs of pride: 
Sing to him loud and long,
Cry, cry, when the song
  Faileth, for joy of the bride!

O Damsels girt in the gold
  Of Ilion, cry, cry ye,
For him that is doomed of old
  To be lord of me!

LEADER.

O hold the damsel, lest her tranced feet
Lift her afar, Queen, toward the Hellene fleet!

HECUBA.

O Fire, Fire, where men make marriages
Surely thou hast thy lot; but what are these
Thou bringest flashing?  Torches savage-wild
And far from mine old dreams.—­Alas, my child,
How little dreamed I then of wars or red
Spears of the Greek to lay thy bridal bed! 
Give me thy brand; it hath no holy blaze
Thus in thy frenzy flung.  Nor all thy days
Nor all thy griefs have changed them yet, nor learned
Wisdom.—­Ye women, bear the pine half burned
To the chamber back; and let your drowned eyes
Answer the music of these bridal cries!

[She takes the torch and gives it to one of the women.

CASSANDRA.

O Mother, fill mine hair with happy flowers,
And speed me forth.  Yea, if my spirit cowers,
Drive me with wrath!  So liveth Loxias[20],
A bloodier bride than ever Helen was
Go I to Agamemnon, Lord most high
Of Hellas!...  I shall kill him, mother; I
Shall kill him, and lay waste his house with fire
As he laid ours.  My brethren and my sire
Shall win again....[21]

(Checking herself) But part I must let be,
And speak not.  Not the axe that craveth me,
And more than me; not the dark wanderings
Of mother-murder that my bridal brings,
And all the House of Atreus down, down, down....

Nay, I will show thee.  Even now this town
Is happier than the Greeks.  I know the power
Of God is on me:  but this little hour,
Wilt thou but listen, I will hold him back!

One love, one woman’s beauty, o’er the track
Of hunted Helen, made their myriads fall. 
And this their King so wise[22], who ruleth all,
What wrought he?  Cast out Love that Hate might feed: 
Gave to his brother his own child, his seed
Of gladness, that a woman fled, and fain
To fly for ever, should be turned again!