Take courage; pain's extremity soon ends. 298 When Strength and Justice are true yoke-fellows, Where can be found a mightier pair than they? RHYMED CHORUSES AGAMEMNON VERSES 40-248 Nine weary years are gone and spent Since Menelaos' armament Sped forth, on work of vengeance bent, For Priam's guilty land; And with him Agamemnon there Throne, sceptre, army all did share; And so from Zeus the Atreidæ bear, Their twofold high command. They a fleet of thousand sail, Strong in battle to prevail, Led from out our Argive coast, Shouting war-cries to the host; E'en as vultures do that utter Shrillest screams as round they flutter, Grieving for their nestlings lost, Plying still their oary wings In many lonely wanderings, Robbed of all the sweet unrest That bound them to their young ones' nest. And One on high of solemn state, Apollo, Pan, or Zeus the great, When he hears that shrill wild cry Of his clients in the sky, On them, the godless who offend, Erinnys slow and sure doth send. So 'gainst Alexandros then The sons of Atreus, chiefs of men, Zeus sent to work his high behest, True guardian of the host and guest. He, for bride of many a groom, On Danai, Troïans sendeth doom, Many wrestlings, sinew-trying Of the knee in dust down-lying, Many a spear-shaft snapt asunder In the prelude of war's thunder. What shall be, shall, and still we see Fulfilled is destiny's decree. Nor by tears in secret shed, Nor by offerings o'er the dead, Will he soothe God's vengeful ire For altar hearths despoiled of fire. And we with age outworn and spent Are left behind that armament, With head upon our staff low bent. Weak our strength like that of boy; Youth's life-blood, in its bounding joy, For deeds of might is like to age, And knows not yet war's heritage: And the man whom many a year Hath bowed in withered age and sere, As with three feet creepeth on, Like phantom form of day-dream gone Not stronger than his infant son.