_Okean._ Thou urgest me who am in act to haste; For this my bird four-footed flaps with wings The clear path of the æther; and full fain Would he bend knee in his own stall at home. [_Exit_. STROPHE I _Chor._ I grieve, Prometheus, for thy dreary fate, Shedding from tender eyes The dew of plenteous tears; With streams, as when the watery south wind blows, My cheek is wet; 410 For lo! these things are all unenviable, And Zeus, by his own laws his sway maintaining, Shows to the elder Gods A mood of haughtiness. ANTISTROPHE I And all the country echoeth with the moan, And poureth many a tear For that magnific power Of ancient days far-seen that thou did'st share With those of one blood sprung; And all the mortal men who hold the plain 420 Of holy Asia as their land of sojourn, They grieve in sympathy For thy woes lamentable. STROPHE II And they, the maiden band who find their home On distant Colchian coasts, Fearless of fight,[160] Or Skythian horde in earth's remotest clime, By far Mæotic lake;[161] ANTISTROPHE II *And warlike glory of Arabia's tribes,[162] Who nigh to Caucasos 430 In rock-fort dwell, An army fearful, with sharp-pointed spear Raging in war's array. STROPHE III One other Titan only have I seen, One other of the Gods, Thus bound in woes of adamantine strength— Atlas, who ever groans Beneath the burden of a crushing might, The out-spread vault of heaven. ANTISTROPHE III And lo! the ocean billows murmur loud 440 In one accord with him;[163] The sea-depths groan, and Hades' swarthy pit Re-echoeth the sound, And fountains of clear rivers, as they flow, Bewail his bitter griefs.