aeschylus - Conscious Evolution TV

The swallowing earth shall yield it nevermore!
Thy life for hers; thou shalt fill me a cup
Drawn from those veins of thine;
Deep draughts of jellied blood I will sip and sup,
Though bitter be the wine.
And then, when I have sucked thy life-blood dry,
I'll drag thee down below!
There mother's son shall mother's agony
Expiate, throe for throel
And thou shalt see all damned souls, whilome
Sinners 'gainst God or guest
Or parent; and of each the righteous doom
Shall be by thee wi tnessed !
For Hades is a jealous Judge of Men,
And in His Black Assize
The record writ wi th ghostly pen
Cons with remorseless eyes.
Or. I am made perfect in the rule of Sorrow,
By oft occasions schooled know when to speak
And when refrain. But on this theme J am bid
Bya most wise Preceptor ope my lips.
The blood from off this hand fades, fallen on sleep;
The spot of mother-murder is washed white;
That, when 'twas fresh, on Divine Phoebus' hearth
Was purged away with blood of slaughtered swine.
'Twere long to tell from tha t first hour all those
I have consorted with and harmed no man.
Now with pure lips that can no more offend
I ask Athena, Sovreign of this realm,
To be my helper. Hers are we then, not won
In war, myself, my Argos and her people,
By pact well-kept her fedaries for ever.
If she about the parts of Libya
Round Triton's rapid river, her natal stream,
Her foot advance, or veil with ilowing train,
True friend of them she loves; or Phlegra's flats,
Like a bold cateran, lord of his clan, surveys,
Thence let her come-a God can hear from far­
And from this sore distress redeem my soul.
Chorus
Maugre Apollo and Athena's might
Thou goest to perdition, derelict
And damned; no place for joy in thy lost soul;
A calf bled whi te for fiends to munch, a shadow.
Answerest thou nothing? Art too sick with scorn,
My fatling, [or my table sanctified;
My dish, not altar-slain but eaten alive?
Hear then the bitter spell that binds thee fast.
Come. dance and song, in linked round I
More deep than blithe Muse can
We'll make these groaning chanters sound
Our governance over Man!
No parley! Give us judgement swift!
We vex not in our wrath who spread
White hands to Heaven uplift.
Not unto such; he journeyeth
Unharmed, a happy traveller
Through life to the last pause of Death:
But to the froward soul, that seeks,
AESCHYLUS
Like him, to cloak up, ifhe could,
Plague-spotted hands, with murder red,
To such our apparition speaks,
The faithful witness for the dead,
Plenipotentiary of Blood
And Slaughter's sovran minister.
Hear me, my Mother! Hark,
Night, in whose womb I lay,
Born to punish dead souls in the dark
And theliying souls in the day!
Lo, Leto's Lion-cub
My right denies;
He would take my slinking beast of the field,
Mine, mine by mother-murder sealed,
My lawful sacrifice.
But this is the song for the victim slain,
To blight his heart and blast his brain,
Wilder and wilder and whirl him along;
This is the song, the Furies' song,
Not sung to harp or lyre,
To bind men's souls in links of brass
And over their bodies to mutter and pass
A withering fire!
Long the thread Fate spun
And gave us to have and hold
For ever, through all Time's texture run,
Our portion from of old.
Who walks with murder wood,
With him walk we
On to the grave, the deep-dug pit;
And when he's dead, he shall have no whit
Too large a liberty!
Oh! this is the song for the victim slain,
To blight his heart and blast his brain,
Wilder and wilder and whirl him along!
This is the song, the Furies' song,
Not sung to harp or lyre,
To bind men's souls in links of brass
And over their bodies to mutter and pass
A withering fire!
When as yet we were quick in the womb,
This for our join ture was meted;
And the Gods that know not Death's doom
Are not at our table seated;
With us they break no bread,
And of all their raiment shining,
I wear nor thrum nor thread;
I will have no fane for my shriningl
But when Quarrel comes in at the gate
For the crashing of homes, when Hate
Draweth his sword against kind,
Ho! who shall our fleet feet bind?
Though he putteth his trust in his strength,
The blood that is on him shall blind,
And our arm overtake him at length!
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