Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE FROGS: A 'EURIPIDEAN' CHORUS, by ARISTOPHANES Poet's Biography First Line: Gloom of the night, gloom of the night Last Line: Show me glyke, hot from sin. Subject(s): Aeschylus (525-456 B.c.); Euripides (484-406 B.c.) | ||||||||
(With tragical foreboding.) GLOOM of the night, gloom of the night, Light that is blackness, darkly bright, What presage of ill, most horrible, What Thing of the Mists beyond Surmise On the windways of dream comes to mine eyes Upward from gulfs of Hell? A living Spirit that yet lives not; A phantom on Night's dark womb begot; A vision of terror and tremblement Gowned in darkness of deadman's veils, With eyes on murder, murder bent And great big finger-nails! (Brisker: a call to action.) Handmaidens, a light! with your pitchers begone, There's dewy-fresh water to draw from the stream; I'll wash and be clean, when the kettle's put on, And banish the taint of this god-driven dream. (Frenzied.) Ay me, God of the Sea, Truth is out, truth foretold! Lodgers, wake! Come and behold Things of wonder, past belief! My rooster gone! Glyke's a thief! A raid, a rape, a roost left bare . . . And Glyke vanished -- into thin air! O Nymphs in your cradle of hills, give aid! I cry to the Nymphs . . . and the poultry-maid! (Sadly, with 'droppings of warm tears'.) I worked -- ah God! -- at a flaxen skein Turning a loaded spindle, A spindle-indle-indle; On through the dusk, as the dawn-stars wane I'd take the road, with my flaxen load, To market on the morrow -- When airily, airily up he flew And left to me sorrow, sorrow! O heart of a bird in the wild far blue, O wing-blades fleet and free . . . Nothing is here But tear upon tear, Drip-drop, O misery me! (In the manner of a tragical invocation.) Sons of Crete, on Ida bred, Bows in hand your comfort bring; Lithe and lofty be your tread, Close the household in a ring. Artemis, Fair Maiden, come! Cast, O Huntress, to and fro; About the house from room to room Bid your pets, the bitch-pack, go. Come, O Hekate, I pray, Child of Zeus, and light me in; With twin-torch of keenest ray Show me Glyke, hot from Sin. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FROGS: AN 'AESCHYLEAN' CHORUS by ARISTOPHANES THE FROGS: THE FATAL OIL-FLASK by ARISTOPHANES THE FROGS: THE FROGS' SONG by ARISTOPHANES THE FROGS: THE RIVAL POETS by ARISTOPHANES THESMOPHORIAZUSAE: EURIPIDES by ARISTOPHANES EURIPIDES by EDWARD GEORGE EARLE LYTTON BULWER-LYTTON A PRIZE FOR EURIPIDES by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON IPHIGENIA AT AULIS by EURIPIDES MEDEA (A FRAGMENT IN DRAMA FORM, AFTER EURIPIDES) by AMY LEVY THE CLOUDS: THE CLOUD CHORUS by ARISTOPHANES |
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