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Held onwards to Magnesia； and the land
Of Macedonia； o'er the ford of Axius；
And Bolbe's sedgy marshes； and the heights
Of steep Pangaeos； to the realms of Thrace。
That night； ere yet the season； breathing frore；
Rush'd winter； and with ice incrusted o'er
The flood of sacred Strymon： such as own'd
No god till now； awe…struck； with many a prayer
Adored the earth and sky。 When now the troops
Had ceased their invocations to the gods；
O'er the stream's solid crystal they began
Their march； and we； who took our early way；
Ere the sun darted his warm beams； pass'd safe：
But when this burning orb with fiery rays
Unbound the middle current； down they sunk
Each over other； happiest he who found
The speediest death： the poor remains； that 'scaped；
With pain through Thrace dragg'd on their toilsome march；
A feeble few； and reach'd their native soil；
That Persia sighs through all her states； and mourns
Her dearest youth。 This is no feigned tale：
But many of the ills； that burst upon us
In dreadful vengeance； I refrain to utter。
（The MESSENGER withdraws。）
LEADER OF THE CHORUS
O Fortune； heavy with affliction's load；
How bath thy foot crush'd all the Persian race！
ATOSSA
Ah me； what sorrows for our ruin'd host
Oppress my soul！ Ye visions of the night
Haunting my dreams； how plainly did you show
These ills！…You set them in too fair a light。
Yet； since your bidding hath in this prevail'd；
First to the gods wish I to pour my prayers；
Then to the mighty dead present my off 'rings；
Bringing libations from my house： too late；
I know； to change the past； yet for the future；
If haply better fortune may await it；
Behooves you； on this sad event； to guide
Your friends with faithful counsels。 Should my son
Return ere I have finish'd； let your voice
Speak comfort to him； friendly to his house
Attend him； nor let sorrow rise on sorrows。
（ATOSSA and her retinue go out。）
CHORUS （singing）
strophe
Awful sovereign of the skies；
When now o'er Persia's numerous host
Thou badest the storm with ruin rise；
All her proud vaunts of glory lost；
Ecbatana's imperial head
By thee was wrapp'd in sorrow's dark'ning shade；
Through Susa's palaces with loud lament；
By their soft hands their veils all rent；
The copious tear the virgins pour；
That trickles their bare bosoms o'er。
From her sweet couch up starts the widow'd bride；
Her lord's loved image rushing on her soul；
Throws the rich ornaments of youth aside；
And gives her griefs to flow without control：
Her griefs not causeless； for the mighty slain
Our melting tears demand； and sorrow…soften'd strain。
antistrophe
Now her wailings wide despair
Pours these exhausted regions o'er：
Xerxes； ill…fated； led the war；
Xerxes； ill…fated； leads no more；
Xerxes sent forth the unwise command；
The crowded ships unpeopled all the land；
That land； o'er which Darius held his reign；
Courting the arts of peace； in vain；
O'er all his grateful realms adored；
The stately Susa's gentle lord。
Black o'er the waves his burden'd vessels sweep；
For Greece elate the warlike squadrons fly；
Now crush'd； and whelm'd beneath the indignant deep
The shatter'd wrecks and lifeless heroes lie：
While； from the arms of Greece escaped； with toil
The unshelter'd monarch roams o'er Thracia's dreary soil。
epode
The first in battle slain
By Cychrea's craggy shore
Through sad constraint； ah me！ forsaken lie；
All pale and smear'd with gore：…
Raise high the mournful strain；
And let the voice of anguish pierce the sky：…
Or roll beneath the roaring tide；
By monsters rent of touch abhorr'd；
While through the widow'd mansion echoing wide
Sounds the deep groan； and wails its slaughter'd lord：
Pale with his fears the helpless orphan there
Gives the full stream of plaintive grief to flow；
While age its hoary head in deep despair
Bends； list'ning to the shrieks of wo。
With sacred awe
The Persian law
No more shall Asia's realms revere；
To their lord's hand
At his command；
No more the exacted tribute bear。
Who now falls prostrate at the monarch's throne？
His regal greatness is no more。
Now no restraint the wanton tongue shall own；
Free from the golden curb of power；
For on the rocks； wash'd by the beating flood；
His awe commanding nobles lie in blood。
（ATOSSA returns； clad in the garb of mourning； she carries
offerings for the tomb of Darius。）
ATOSSA
Whoe'er； my friends； in the rough stream of life
Hath struggled with affliction； thence is taught
That； when the flood begins to swell； the heart
Fondly fears all things； when the fav'ring gale
Of Fortune smooths the current； it expands
With unsuspecting confidence； and deems
That gale shall always breathe。 So to my eyes
All things now wear a formidable shape；
And threaten from the gods： my ears are pierced
With sounds far other than of song。 Such ills
Dismay my sick'ning soul： hence from my house
Nor glitt'ring car attends me； nor the train
Of wonted state； while I return； and bear
Libations soothing to the father's shade
In the son's cause； delicious milk； that foams
White from the sacred heifer； liquid honey；
Extract of flowers； and from its virgin fount
The running crystal； this pure draught； that flow'd
From the ancient vine； of power to bathe the spirits
In joy； the yellow olive's fragrant fruit；
That glories in its leaves' unfading verdure；
With flowers of various hues； earth's fairest offspring
Inwreathed。 But you； my friends； amid these rites
Raise high your solemn warblings； and invoke
Your lord； divine Darius； I meanwhile
Will pour these off'rings to the infernal gods。
CHORUS （chanting）
Yes； royal lady； Persia's honour'd grace；
To earth's dark chambers pour thy off'rings： we
With choral hymns will supplicate the powers
That guide the dead； to be propitious to us。
And you； that o'er the realms of night extend
Your sacred sway； thee mighty earth； and the
Hermes； thee chief； tremendous king； whose throne
Awes with supreme dominion； I adjure：
Send； from your gloomy regions； send his shade
Once more to visit this ethereal light；
That he alone； if aught of dread event
He sees yet threat'ning Persia； may disclose
To us poor mortals Fate's extreme decree。
Hears the honour'd godlike king？
These barbaric notes of wo；
Taught in descant sad to ring；
Hears he in the shades below？
Thou； O Earth； and you； that lead
Through your sable realms the dead；
Guide him as he takes his way；
And give him to the ethereal light of day！
Let the illustrious shade arise
Glorious in his radiant state；
More than blazed before our eyes；
Ere sad Susa mourn'd his fate。
Dear he lived； his tomb is dear；
Shrining virtues we revere：
Send then； monarch of the dead；
Such as Darius was； Darius' shade。
He in realm…unpeopling war
Wasted not his subjects' blood；
Godlike in his will to spare；
In his councils wise and good。
Rise then； sovereign lord； to light；
On this mound's sepulchral height
Lift thy sock in saffron died；
And rear thy rich tiara's regal pride！
Great and good； Darius； rise：
Lord of Persia's lord； appear：
Thus involved with thrilling cries
Come； our tale of sorrow hear！
War her Stygian pennons spreads；
Brooding darkness o'er our heads；
For stretch'd along the dreary shore
The flow'r of Asia lies distain'd with gore。
Rise； Darius； awful power；
Long for thee our tears shall flow。
Why thy ruin'd empire o'er
Swells this double flood of wo？
Sweeping o'er the azure tide
Rode thy navy's gallant pride：
Navy now no more； for all
Beneath the whelming wave…
（While the CHORUS Sings； ATOSSA performs her ritual by the tomb。
As the song concludes the GHOST OF DARIUS appears from the tomb。）
GHOST OF DARIUS
Ye faithful Persians； honour'd no