Wherefore for ever on the wings of fear 
Hovers a vision drear 
Before my boding heart? a strain, 
Unbidden and unwelcome, thrills mine ear, 
Oracular of pain. 
Not as of old upon my bosom’s throne 
Sits Confidence, to spurn 
Such fears, like dreams we know not to discern. 
Old, old and grey long since the time has grown, 
Which saw the linked cables moor 
The fleet, when erst it came to Ilion’s sandy shore;

antistrophe 1

And now mine eyes and not another’s see 
Their safe return. 

Yet none the less in me 
The inner spirit sings a boding song, 
Self-prompted, sings the Furies’ strain- 
And seeks, and seeks in vain, 
To hope and to be strong! 

Ah! to some end of Fate, unseen, unguessed, 
Are these wild throbbings of my heart and breast- 
Yea, of some doom they tell- 
Each pulse, a knell. 
Lief, lief I were, that all 
To unfulfilment’s hidden realm might fall.

strophe 2

Too far, too far our mortal spirits strive, 
Grasping at utter weal, unsatisfied- 
Till the fell curse, that dwelleth hard beside, 
Thrust down the sundering wall. Too fair they blow, 
The gales that waft our bark on Fortune’s tide! 
Swiftly we sail, the sooner an to drive 
Upon the hidden rock, the reef of woe. 
Then if the hand of caution warily 
Sling forth into the sea 
Part of the freight, lest all should sink below, 
From the deep death it saves the bark: even so, 
Doom-laden though it be, once more may rise 
His household, who is timely wise. 

How oft the famine-stricken field 
Is saved by God’s large gift, the new year’s yield!

antistrophe 2

But blood of man once spilled, 
Once at his feet shed forth, and darkening the plain,- 
Nor chant nor charm can call it back again. 
So Zeus hath willed: 

Else had he spared the leech Asclepius, skilled 
To bring man from the dead: the hand divine 
Did smite himself with death-a warning and a sign- 

Ah me! if Fate, ordained of old, 
Held not the will of gods constrained, controlled, 
Helpless to us-ward, and apart- 
Swifter than speech my heart 
Had poured its presage out! 
Now, fretting, chafing in the dark of doubt, 
‘Tis hopeless to unfold 
Truth, from fear’s tangled skein; and, yearning to proclaim 
Its thought, my soul is prophecy and flame.
CLYTEMNESTRA comes out of the palace and addresses CASSANDRA, who has remained motionless in her chariot.

CLYTEMNESTRA

Get thee within thou too, Cassandra, go! 
For Zeus to thee in gracious mercy grants 
To share the sprinklings of the lustral bowl, 
Beside the altar of his guardianship, 
Slave among many slaves. What, haughty still? 
Step from the car; Alcmena’s son, ’tis said, 
Was sold perforce and bore the yoke of old. 
Ay, hard it is, but, if such fate befall, 
‘Tis a fair chance to serve within a home 
Of ancient wealth and power. An upstart lord, 
To whom wealth’s harvest came beyond his hope, 
Is as a lion to his slaves, in all 
Exceeding fierce, immoderate in sway. 
Pass in: thou hearest what our ways will be.

LEADER OF THE CHORUS

Clear unto thee, O maid, is her command, 
But thou-within the toils of Fate thou art- 
If such thy will, I urge thee to obey; 
Yet I misdoubt thou dost nor hear nor heed.

CLYTEMNESTRA

I wot-unless like swallows she doth use 
Some strange barbarian tongue from oversea- 
My words must speak persuasion to her soul.

LEADER

Obey: there is no gentler way than this. 
Step from the car’s high seat and follow her.

CLYTEMNESTRA

Truce to this bootless waiting here without! 
I will not stay: beside the central shrine 
The victims stand, prepared for knife and fire- 
Offerings from hearts beyond all hope made glad. 
Thou-if thou reckest aught of my command, 
‘Twere well done soon: but if thy sense be shut 
From these my words, let thy barbarian hand 
Fulfil by gesture the default of speech.

LEADER

No native is she, thus to read thy words 
Unaided: like some wild thing of the wood, 
New-trapped, behold! she shrinks and glares on thee.

CLYTEMNESTRA

‘Tis madness and the rule of mind distraught, 
Since she beheld her city sink in fire, 
And hither comes, nor brooks the bit, until 
In foam and blood her wrath be champed away. 
See ye to her; unqueenly ’tis for me, 
Unheeded thus to cast away my words.

CLYTEMNESTRA enters the palace.
LEADER

But with me pity sits in anger’s place. 
Poor maiden, come thou from the car; no way 
There is but this-take up thy servitude.

CASSANDRA chanting

Woe, woe, alas! Earth, Mother Earth! and thou 
Apollo, Apollo!

LEADER

Peace! shriek not to the bright prophetic god, 
Who will not brook the suppliance of woe.

CASSANDRA chanting

Woe, woe, alas! Earth, Mother Earth! and thou 
Apollo, Apollo!

LEADER

Hark, with wild curse she calls anew on him, 
Who stands far off and loathes the voice of wail.

CASSANDRA chanting

Apollo, Apollo! 
God of all ways, but only Death’s to me, 
Once and again, O thou, Destroyer named, 
Thou hast destroyed me, thou, my love of old!

LEADER

She grows presageful of her woes to come, 
Slave tho’ she be, instinct with prophecy.

CASSANDRA chanting

Apollo, Apollo! 
God of all ways, but only Death’s to me, 
O thou Apollo, thou Destroyer named! 
What way hast led me, to what evil home?

LEADER

Know’st thou it not? The home of Atreus’ race: 
Take these my words for sooth and ask no more.

CASSANDRA chanting

Home cursed of God! Bear witness unto me, 
Ye visioned woes within- 
The blood-stained hands of them that smite their kin- 
The strangling noose, and, spattered o’er 
With human blood, the reeking floor!

LEADER

How like a sleuth-hound questing on the track, 
Keen-scented unto blood and death she hies!

CASSANDRA chanting

Ah! can the ghostly guidance fail, 
Whereby my prophet-soul is onwards led? 
Look! for their flesh the spectre-children wail, 
Their sodden limbs on which their father fed!

LEADER

Long since we knew of thy prophetic fame,- 
But for those deeds we seek no prophet’s tongue-

CASSANDRA chanting

God! ’tis another crime- 
Worse than the storied woe of olden time, 
Cureless, abhorred, that one is plotting here- 
A shaming death, for those that should be dear 
Alas! and far away, in foreign land, 
He that should help doth stand!

LEADER

I knew th’ old tales, the city rings withal- 
But now thy speech is dark, beyond my ken.

CASSANDRA chanting

O wretch, O purpose fell! 
Thou for thy wedded lord 
The cleansing wave hast poured- 
A treacherous welcome 
How the sequel tell? 
Too soon ’twill come, too soon, for now, even now, 
She smites him, blow on blow!

LEADER

Riddles bcyond my rede–I peer in vain 
Thro’ the dim films that screen the prophecy

CASSANDRA chanting

God! a new sight! a net, a snare of hell, 
Set by her hand–herself a snare more fell 
A wedded wife, she slays her lord, 
Helped by another hand! 
Ye powers, whose hate 
Of Atreus’ home no blood can satiate, 
Raise the wild cry above the sacrifice abhorred!

CHORUS chanting

Why biddest thou some hend, I know not whom, 
Shriek o’er the house? Thine is no cheering word. 
Back to my heart in frozen fear I feel 
My wanning life-blood run– The blood that round the wounding steel 
Ebbs slow, as sinks life’s parting sun– 
Swift, swift and sure, some woe comes pressing on.

CASSANDRA chanting

Away, away–keep him away– 
The monarch of the herd, the pasture’s pride, 
Far from his mate! In treach’rous wrath, 
Muffling his swarthy horns, with secret scathe 
She gores his fenceless side! Hark ! in the brimming bath, 
The heavy plash–the dying cry– 
Hark–in the laver–hark, he falls by treachery!

CHORUS chanting

I read amiss dark sayings such as thine, 
Yet something warns me that they tell of ill, 
O dark prophetic speech, Ill tidings dost thou teach 
Ever, to mortals here below! Ever some tale of awe and woe 
Thro’ all thy windings manifold Do we unriddle and unfold!

CASSANDRA chanting

Ah well-a-day! the cup of agony, 
Whereof I chant, foams with a draught for me 
Ah lord, ah leader, thou hast led me here– 
Was’t but to die with thee whose doom is near?

CHORUS chanting

Distraught thou art, divinely stirred, 
And wailest for thyself a tuneless lay, 
As piteous as the ceaseless tale 
Wherewith the brown melodious bird 
Doth ever Itys! Itys! wail, 
Deep-bowered in sorrow, all its little life-time’s day!

CASSANDRA chanting

Ah for thy fate, O shrill-voiced nightingale! 
Some solace for thy woes did Heaven afford, 
Clothed thee with soft brown plumes, and life apart from wail– 
But for my death is edged the double-biting sword!

CHORUS chanting

What pangs are these, what fruitless pain, 
Sent on thee from on high? 
Thou chantest terror’s frantic strain, 
Yet in shrill measured melody. 
How thus unerring canst thou sweep along 
The prophet’s path of boding song?

CASSANDRA chanting

Woe, Paris, woe on thee! thy bridal joy 
Was death and fire upon thy race and Troy! 
And woe for thee, Scamander’s flood! 
Beside thy banks, O river fair, 
I grew in tender nursing care 
From childhood unto maidenhood! 
Now not by thine, but by Cocytus’ stream 
And Acheron’s banks shall ring my boding scream.

Agamemnon by Aeschylus