From the cup of my heart I pour through my lips along [_Str._ 1. The mingled wine of a joyful and sorrowful song; Wine sweeter than honey and bitterer than blood that is poured From the chalice of gold, from the point of the two-edged sword. For the city redeemed should joy flow forth as a flood, And a dirge make moan for the city polluted with blood. Great praise should the Gods have surely, my country, of thee, [_Ant._ 1. 1630 Were thy brow but as white as of old for thy sons to see, Were thy hands as bloodless, as blameless thy cheek divine; But a stain on it stands of the life-blood offered for thine. What thanks shall we give that are mixed not and marred with dread For the price that has ransomed thine own with thine own child's head? For a taint there cleaves to the people redeemed with blood, [_Str._ 2. And a plague to the blood-red hand. The rain shall not cleanse it, the dew nor the sacred flood That blesses the glad live land. In the darkness of earth beneath, in the world without sun, [_Ant._ 2. 1640 The shadows of past things reign; And a cry goes up from the ghost of an ill deed done, And a curse for a virgin slain. ATHENA. Hear, men that mourn, and woman without mate, Hearken; ye sick of soul with fear, and thou Dumb-stricken for thy children; hear ye too, Earth, and the glory of heaven, and winds of the air, And the most holy heart of the deep sea, Late wroth, now full of quiet; hear thou, sun, Rolled round with the upper fire of rolling heaven 1650 And all the stars returning; hills and streams, Springs and fresh fountains, day that seest these deeds. Night that shalt hide not; and thou child of mine, Child of a maiden, by a maid redeemed, Blood-guiltless, though bought back with innocent blood, City mine own; I Pallas bring thee word, I virgin daughter of the most high God Give all you charge and lay command on all The word I bring be wasted not; for this The Gods have stablished and his soul hath sworn, 1660 That time nor earth nor changing sons of man Nor waves of generations, nor the winds Of ages risen and fallen that steer their tides Through light and dark of birth and lovelier death From storm toward haven inviolable, shall see So great a light alive beneath the sun As the awless eye of Athens; all fame else Shall be to her fame as a shadow in sleep To this wide noon at waking; men most praised In lands most happy for their children found 1670 Shall hold as highest of honours given of God To be but likened to the least of thine, Thy least of all, my city; thine shall be