CHORUS (_entering and turning towards the East_). Born of the starry night in her undoing, I 1 Lulled in her bosom at thy parting glow, O Sun! I bid thee show, What journey is Alcmena's child pursuing? What region holds him now, 'Mong winding channels of the deep, Or Asian plains, or rugged Western steep? Declare it, thou Peerless in vision of thy flashing ray That lightens on the world with each new day. Sad Deanira, bride of battle-wooing[1], I 2 Ne'er lets her tearful eyelids close in rest, But in love-longing breast, Like some lorn bird its desolation rueing, Of her great husband's way Still mindful, worn with harrowing fear Lest some new danger for him should be near, By night and day Pines on her widowed couch of ceaseless thought, With dread of evil destiny distraught: [_Enter_ DEANIRA. For many as are billows of the South II 1 Blowing unweariedly, or Northern gale, One going and another coming on Incessantly, baffling the gazer's eye, Such Cretan ocean of unending toil Cradles our Cadmus-born, and swells his fame. But still some power doth his foot recall From stumbling down to Hades' darkling hall. Wherefore, in censure of thy mood, I bring II 2 Glad, though opposing, counsel. Let not hope Grow weary. Never hath a painless life Been cast on mortals by the power supreme Of the All-disposer, Cronos' son. But joy And sorrow visit in perpetual round All mortals, even as circleth still on high The constellation of the Northern sky. What lasteth in the world? Not starry night, III Nor wealth, nor tribulation; but is gone All suddenly, while to another soul The joy or the privation passeth on. These hopes I bid thee also, O my Queen! Hold fast continually, for who hath seen Zeus so forgetful of his own? How can his providence forsake his son?