The Nacreous Oughts

19 June 2008

from Alexandra (302-313):

This, this shall gnaw my heart! then shall I feel
The venom'd pang, the rankling of the soul;
Then when the eagle, bony, gaunt, and grim,
Shall wave his shadowy wings, and plough the winds
On clanging penns, and o'er the subject plain
Wheel his wide-circling flight in many a gyre,
Pounce on his prey, scream loud with savage joy,
And plunge his talons in my brother's breast,
(My best beloved, my father's dear delight,
Our hope, our stay!) then, soaring to the clouds,
Shower down his blood upon his native woods,
And bathe the terrors of his beak in gore.

--Lycophron (tr Royston, 1806)

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