Art thou some crested serpent brandishing Its hideous head; or some fell thing of ill 1255 As yet unknown to me, produced perchance From Hydra's poisonous gore, or left on earth By Cerberus, the deadly dog of Styx? Oh, every ill art thou, and yet no ill. What are thy form and features? Grant at least That I may know the thing by which I die. Whate'er thy name, whatever monster thou, 1260 Come out, and show thy terror to my face. What enemy has made a way for thee Unto my inmost heart? Behold my hands Have torn aside my burning skin and so My bleeding flesh disclosed. But deeper yet Its hiding-place. Oh, woe invincible As Hercules! But whence these grievous cries? 1265 And whence these tears which trickle down my cheeks? My face, unmoved by grief, has never yet Been wet with tears; but now, Oh, shame to me, Has learned to weep. Where is the day, the land, That has beheld the tears of Hercules? Dry-eyed have I my troubles ever borne. To thee alone, dire pest, to thee alone 1270 That strength has yielded which so many ills Has overcome. Thou first, yea, first of all Hast forced the tear-drops from these stubborn eyes. For, harder than the bristling crag, or steel, Or than the wandering Symplegades, Hast thou my stern face softened, and my tears, Unwilling, forced to flow. And now the world, 1275 O thou most mighty ruler of the skies, Has seen me giving way to tears and groans; And, that which brings me greater anguish still, My stepdame too has seen. But lo, again The scorching heat flames up and burns my heart. Oh, slay me, father, with thy heavenly dart. _Chorus:_ Where is the strength that can withstand The power of suffering? But now More hard than Thracian Haemus' crags, 1280 Sterner than savage northern skies, He is by agony subdued. His fainting head upon his breast Falls low; his massive frame he shifts From side to side; now and again His manly courage dries his tears. 1285 So, with however warm a flame Bright Titan labors to dissolve The arctic snows, still are his fires By those bright, icy rays outshone.