But now, ye warders of the state, Here, in this hall of old renown, Behoves that we deliberate In counsel deep and wise debate, For need is surely shown! How fareth he, Darius’ child, The Persian king, from Perseus styled? Comes triumph to the eastern bow, Or hath the lance-point conquered now? Enter ATOSSA. See, yonder comes the mother-queen, Light of our eyes, in godlike sheen, The royal mother of the king!— Fall we before her! well it were That, all as one, we sue to her, And round her footsteps cling! Queen, among deep-girded Persian dames thou highest and most royal, Hoary mother, thou, of Xerxes, and Darius’ wife of old! To godlike sire, and godlike son, we bow us and are loyal— Unless, on us, an adverse tide of destiny has rolled! ATOSSA. Therefore come I forth to you, from chambers decked and golden, Where long ago Darius laid his head, with me beside, And my heart is torn with anguish, and with terror am I holden, And I plead unto your friendship and I bid you to my side. Darius, in the old time, by aid of some Immortal, Raised up the stately fabric, our wealth of long-ago: But I tremble lest it totter down, and ruin porch and portal, And the whirling dust of downfall rise above its overthrow! Therefore a dread unspeakable within me never slumbers, Saying, _Honour not the gauds of wealth if men have ceased to grow, Nor deem that men, apart from wealth, can find their strength in numbers_— We shudder for our light and king, though we have gold enow! _No light there is, in any house, save presence of the master_— So runs the saw, ye aged men! and truth it says indeed— On you I call, the wise and true, to ward us from disaster, For all my hope is fixed on you, to prop us in our need! CHORUS. Queen-Mother of the Persian land, to thy commandment bowing, Whate’er thou wilt, in word or deed, we follow to fulfil— Not twice we need thine high behest, our faith and duty knowing, In council and in act alike, thy loyal servants still!