Song Of The Furies

A poem by Aeschylus (c. 525 – c. 456 Before Christ )

Up and lead the dance of Fate!

Lift the song that mortals hate!

Tell what rights are ours on earth,

Over all of human birth.

Swift of foot to avenge are we!

He whose hands are clean and pure,

Naught our wrath to dread hath he;

Calm his cloudless days endure.

But the man that seeks to hide

Like him (1), his gore-bedewèd hands,

Witnesses to them that died,

The blood avengers at his side,

The Furies’ troop forever stands.

O’er our victim come begin!

Come, the incantation sing,

Frantic all and maddening,

To the heart a brand of fire,

The Furies’ hymn,

That which claims the senses dim,

Tuneless to the gentle lyre,

Withering the soul within.

The pride of all of human birth,

All glorious in the eye of day,

Dishonored slowly melts away,

Trod down and trampled to the earth,

Whene’er our dark-stoled troop advances,

Whene’er our feet lead on the dismal dances.

For light our footsteps are,

And perfect is our might,

Awful remembrances of guilt and crime,

Implacable to mortal prayer,

Far from the gods, unhonored, and heaven’s light,

We hold our voiceless dwellings dread,

All unapproached by living or by dead.

What mortal feels not awe,

Nor trembles at our name,

Hearing our fate-appointed power sublime,

Fixed by the eternal law.

For old our office, and our fame,

Might never yet of its due honors fail,

Though ‘neath the earth our realm in unsunned regions pale.

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Poems in English 

• Sonet 42 by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Sonet 41 by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Sonet 4 by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Sonet 39 by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Sonet 38 by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Sonet 36 by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Sonet 35 by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Sonet 34 by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Sonet 33 by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Sonet 32 by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Jonathan: The First Booke by William Alexander by William Alexander
• IX: Some Verses: This Day Design’d To Spoil The World of Peace by William Alexander by William Alexander
• IV: Some Verses: To The Author by William Alexander by William Alexander
• III: Some Verses: To M. Michaell Drayton by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Elegie IV: On The Death of Prince Henrie by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Doomes-Day: The Twelfth Houre by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Doomes-Day: The Third Houre by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Doomes-Day: The Tenth Houre by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Doomes-Day: The Sixth Houre by William Alexander by William Alexander
• Doomes-Day: The Ninth Houre by William Alexander by William Alexander

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