The House of Atreus

ls of old, Wherein my sire high feast did hold, Rang to the virginal soft strain, When I, a stainless child, Sang from pure lips and undefiled, Sang of my sire, and all His honoured life, and how on him should fall Heaven's highest gift and gain! And then--but I beheld not, nor can tell, What further fate befel: But this is sure, that Calchas' boding strain Can ne'er be void or vain. This wage from Justice' hand do sufferers earn, The future to discern: And yet--farewell, O secret of To-morrow! Fore-knowledge is fore-sorrow. Clear with the clear beams of the morrow's sun, The future presseth on. Now, let the house's tale, how dark soe'er, Find yet an issue fair!-- So prays the loyal, solitary band That guards the Apian land.

[They turn to Clytemnestra, who leaves the altars and comes forward.

O queen, I come in reverence of thy sway-- For, while the ruler's kingly seat is void, The loyal heart before his consort bends. Now--be it sure and certain news of good, Or the fair