 | Poems (1931) |  |
[_]
[There is a blank page here in the manuscript, and only a part of the conclusion of the tragedy is continued upon a separate sheet.]
Tell, tell thy eager wish, and be obey'd.
Oed.
Then drive me instant from this Land accurst,
Where I may hear the voice of Man no more.
226
Consult we first the holy Oracles;
Nor can I order till Apollo speaks.
Oed.
Too plain already hath he spoke my doom
A Monster and a Paricide declar'd.
Cre.
Though he hath spoke, th' unsettled State requires
That we consult his sacred shrines once more.
Oed.
Vain to consult them for a Wretch like me.
Cre.
Thy fortune, Prince, well justifies that search,
A dreadful instance that the Gods speak truth.
Oed.
In pity, Creon, hear my last commands.
See Her, the Clay-cold Corpse that lies within
Lodg'd decent in some Sepulchre: to Thee
This care of thy own Family belongs.
Mean-while from Thebes, my Native Thebes I goe
That well may spare a Citizen like me.
Out-cast from hence oh let me rove alone
On the bleak Mountain's barren Precipice,
My own Cithaeron; there my wretched Sire,
While yet he liv'd, my haplesse Mother there
Ordain'd my Sepulchre. Oh thither send
And where they first commanded, let me Die.
I now perceive why safe through fields of Blood
I've pass'd and breath'd un-hurt in tainted Air,
Far greater Ills, and heavier loads of Woe
Reserv'd: sad privilege! But be it so!
Go on, ye Fates, and make your work complete.
| Poems (1931) | |