SEMICHORUS.

    Her eyes were clear as the sun,
      Her brows were fresh as the day;
    She girdled herself with gold,
    Her robes were manifold;
    But the days of her worship are done,
      Her praise is taken away.

  SEMICHORUS.

    For she set her hand to the fire,
      With her mouth she kindled the same,
    As the mouth of a flute-player,
    So was the mouth of her;
    With the might of her strong desire
      She blew the breath of the flame.

  SEMICHORUS.

    She set her hand to the wood,
      She took the fire in her hand;
    As one who is nigh to death,
    She panted with strange breath;
    She opened her lips unto blood,
      She breathed and kindled the brand.

  SEMICHORUS.

    As a wood-dove newly shot,
      She sobbed and lifted her breast;
    She sighed and covered her eyes,
    Filling her lips with sighs;
    She sighed, she withdrew herself not,
      She refrained not, taking not rest;

  SEMICHORUS.

    But as the wind which is drouth,
      And as the air which is death,
    As storm that severeth ships,
    Her breath severing her lips,
    The breath came forth of her mouth
      And the fire came forth of her breath.

  Second Messenger.

  Queen, and you maidens, there is come on us
  A thing more deadly than the face of death;
  Meleager the good lord is as one slain.

  SEMICHORUS.

    Without sword, without sword is he stricken;
      Slain, and slain without hand.

  Second Messenger.

  For as keen ice divided of the sun
  His limbs divide, and as thawed snow the flesh
  Thaws from off all his body to the hair.

  SEMICHORUS.

    He wastes as the embers quicken;
      With the brand he fades as a brand
  second Messenger.

  Even while they sang and all drew hither and he
  Lifted both hands to crown the Arcadian’s hair
  And fix the looser leaves, both hands fell down.

  SEMICHORUS.

    With rending of cheek and of hair
      Lament ye, mourn for him, weep.

  Second Messenger.

  Straightway the crown slid off and smote on earth,
  First fallen; and he, grasping his own hair, groaned
  And cast his raiment round his face and fell.

  SEMICHORUS.

    Alas for visions that were,
      And soothsayings spoken in sleep.

  Second Messenger.

  But the king twitched his reins in and leapt down
  And caught him, crying out twice ‘O child’ and thrice,
  So that men’s eyelids thickened with their tears.

  SEMICHORUS.

    Lament with a long lamentation,
      Cry, for an end is at hand.

  Second Messenger.