Antigone.

The words are uttered ;  now a pitiless fate1
                        
                        Draws me towards yonder desolate dark cave2
                        
                        On the dim mountain side, where steps of men,3
                        
                        Of wandering shepherds, homeward to the fold4
                        
                        Guiding their weary flocks at eventide,5
                        
                        Approach not—even the place where I must die.6
                        
                        And thou, O Hœmon !  whom amidst the youth—7
                        
                        The chosen youth of Thebes—I have so loved8
                        
                        And given my virgin heart, remember me9
                        
                        With calm thoughts of that unforgotten time,10
                        
                        Long hoped-for, but now lost, for ever lost—11
                        
                        Yield not thy soul to a passionate despair.12
                        
                        The sunlight, or the eternal roll and change13
                        
                        Of gracious seasons—or the pitying stars14
                        
                        Which light me, moving towards perpetual night—15
                        
                        Or sad Ismene, with her fruitless prayer16
                        
                        For mercy—or the anguish in thy soul17
                        
                        Scares not the awful shadow, which not yet18
                        
                        Has ceased to hover, spreading fatal wings19
                        
                        O’er the doomed race of wretched Œdipus.20
                        
                        Ah me, unhappy !  retribution comes—21
                        
                        Stalking in gloom thro’ melancholy halls22
                        
                        Once beautiful, the stateliest in the land—23
                        
                        Thy home now, cruel Creon ;  yet my crime24
                        
                        Is not my shame, but thine ;  for I behold25
                        
                        Polynices the beloved one on the shore26
                        
                        In the silent land of shadows, and I come.27
                        
                        Lo !  I depart thro’ the dim wavering gates28
                        
                        The mist-like portals of that Autumn realm,29
                        
                        Where mighty Orcus reigns ;  and the stern queen30
                        
                        Persephoné, who rules, with sceptre pale31
                        
                        And calm eternal eyes, the gliding shades32
                        
                        That wail around the shores of Acheron—33
                        
                        Calls me, with sweet sad voice to take my place34
                        
                        In divine dells, and glades of happy rest.35