Nor by price of pollution of blood set us free;

Let the hands be taintless that clasp thy knee,

Nor a maiden be slain to redeem for a maiden her shrine from the sea.

[Str. 3.

O earth, O sun, turn back

Full on his deadly track

Death, that would smite you black and mar your creatures,

And with one hand disroot

All tender flower and fruit,

180

With one strike blind and mute the heaven's fair features,

Pluck out the eyes of morn, and make

Silence in the east and blackness whence the bright songs break.

[Pg 10]

[Ant. 3.

Help, earth, help, heaven, that hear

The song-notes of our fear,

Shrewd notes and shrill, not clear or joyful-sounding;

Hear, highest of Gods, and stay

Death on his hunter's way,

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