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Aeschylus, agamemnon<br />
Dies at the last from hearts of human kind.<br />
From mine own soul and from no alien lips,<br />
I know and will reveal the life I bore.<br />
Reluctant, through the lingering livelong years,<br />
The while my lord beleaguered Ilion's wall.<br />
First, that a wife sat sundered from her lord,<br />
In widowed solitude, was utter woe<br />
And woe, to hear how rumour's many tongues<br />
All boded evil-woe, when he who came<br />
And he who followed spake of ill on ill,<br />
Keening Lost, lost, all lost! thro' hall and bower.<br />
Had this my husband met so many wounds,<br />
As by a thousand channels rumour told,<br />
No network e'er was full of holes as he.<br />
Had he been slain, as oft as tidings came<br />
That he was dead, he well might boast him now<br />
A second Geryon of triple frame,<br />
With triple robe of earth above him laid-<br />
For that below, no matter-triply dead,<br />
Dead by one death for every form he bore.<br />
And thus distraught by news of wrath and woe,<br />
Oft for self-slaughter had I slung the noose,<br />
But others wrenched it from my neck away.<br />
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