Chorus:
after alighting
I mourn for thee, Prometheus, minished and brought low,
Watering my virgin cheeks with these sad drops, that
flow
From sorrow's rainy fount, to fill soft-lidded eyes
With pure libations for thy fortune's obsequies.
An evil portion that none coveteth hath Zeus
Prepared for thee; by self-made laws established for his
use
Disposing all, the elder Gods he purposeth to show
How strong is that right arm wherewith he smites a
foe.
There hath gone up a cry from earth, a groaning for the
fall
Of things of old renown and shapes majestical,
And for thy passing an exceeding bitter groan;
For thee and for thy brother Gods whose honour was thine
own:
These things all they who dwell in Asia's holy seat,
Time's minions, mourn and with their groans thy groans
repeat.
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