'But I shall bear the weight of woe, but I
Shall shed the ceaseless tear; for sad the dawn,
and sad the day shall rise when thou art slain!
Saddest, while Time athwart the deep serene
Rolls on the silver circle of the moon.
Thee too I weep, no more thy youthful form
Shall blossom with new beauties, now no more
Thy brother's arms shall twine around your neck
In strict embrace, but to the dragon's heart
Swift shalt thou send thy shafts entipped with flame,
And round his bosom weave the lim'ed nets
Of love; but loathing shall possess thy soul,
Thy blood shall flow upon they father's hearth,
And low the glories of thine head shall lie.'
Translated from the original Greek of Lycophron and illustrated
with notes by Viscount Royston.
Cambridge : Printed by R. Watts at the University Press, 1806, p.24