AI.  What change will never-terminable Time
Not heave to light, what hide not from the day? 
What chance shall win men’s marvel?  Mightiest oaths
Fall frustrate, and the steely-tempered will. 
Ay, and even mine, that stood so diamond-keen
Like iron lately dipped, droops now dis-edged
And weakened by this woman, whom to leave
A widow with her orphan to my foes,
Dulls me with pity.  I will go to the baths
And meadows near the cliff, and purging there
My dark pollution, I will screen my soul
From reach of Pallas’ grievous wrath.  I will find
Same place untrodden, and digging of the soil
Where none shall see, will bury this my sword,
Weapon of hate! for Death and Night to hold
Evermore underground.  For, since my hand
Had this from Hector mine arch-enemy,
No kindness have I known from Argive men. 
So true that saying of the bygone world,
‘A foe’s gift is no gift, and brings no good.’ 
  Well, we will learn of Time.  Henceforth I’ll bow
To heavenly ordinance and give homage due
To Atreus’ sons.  Who rules, must be obeyed. 
Since nought so fierce and terrible but yields
Place to Authority.  Wild Winter’s snows
Make way for bounteous Summer’s flowery tread,
And Night’s sad orb retires for lightsome Day
With his white steeds to illumine the glad sky. 
The furious storm-blast leaves the groaning sea
Gently to rest.  Yea, the all-subduer Sleep
Frees whom he binds, nor holds enchained for aye. 
And shall not men be taught the temperate will? 
Yea, for I now know surely that my foe
Must be so hated, as being like enough
To prove a friend hereafter, and my friend
So far shall have mine aid, as one whose love
Will not continue ever.  Men have found
But treacherous harbour in companionship. 
  Our ending, then, is peaceful.  Thou, my girl,
Go in and pray the Gods my heart’s desire
Be all fulfilled.  My comrades, join her here,
Honouring my wishes; and if Teucer come,
Bid him toward us be mindful, kind toward you. 
I must go—­whither I must go.  Do ye
But keep my word, and ye may learn, though now
Be my dark hour, that all with me is well.
                       [Exit towards the country. Tecmessa retires

CHORUS. 
A shudder of love thrills through me.  Joy!  I soar 1
      O Pan, wild Pan! [They dance
      Come from Cyllene hoar—­
Come from the snow drift, the rock-ridge, the glen! 
      Leaving the mountain bare
      Fleet through the salt sea-air,
Mover of dances to Gods and to men. 
Whirl me in Cnossian ways—­thrid me the Nysian maze! 
Come, while the joy of the dance is my care! 
      Thou too, Apollo, come
      Bright from thy Delian home,
          Bringer of day,
      Fly o’er the southward main
      Here in our hearts to reign,
Loved to repose there and kindly to stay.