Up and lead the dance of Fate! <br />Lift the song that mortals hate! <br />Tell what rights are ours on earth, <br />Over all of human birth. <br />Swift of foot to avenge are we! <br />He whose hands are clean and pure, <br />Naught our wrath to dread hath he; <br />Calm his cloudless days endure. <br />But the man that seeks to hide <br />Like him (1), his gore-bedewèd hands, <br />Witnesses to them that died, <br />The blood avengers at his side, <br />The Furies' troop forever stands. <br /> <br />O'er our victim come begin! <br />Come, the incantation sing, <br />Frantic all and maddening, <br />To the heart a brand of fire, <br />The Furies' hymn, <br />That which claims the senses dim, <br />Tuneless to the gentle lyre, <br />Withering the soul within. <br /> <br />The pride of all of human birth, <br />All glorious in the eye of day, <br />Dishonored slowly melts away, <br />Trod down and trampled to the earth, <br />Whene'er our dark-stoled troop advances, <br />Whene'er our feet lead on the dismal dances. <br /> <br />For light our footsteps are, <br />And perfect is our might, <br />Awful remembrances of guilt and crime, <br />Implacable to mortal prayer, <br />Far from the gods, unhonored, and heaven's light, <br />We hold our voiceless dwellings dread, <br />All unapproached by living or by dead. <br /> <br />What mortal feels not awe, <br />Nor trembles at our name, <br />Hearing our fate-appointed power sublime, <br />Fixed by the eternal law. <br />For old our office, and our fame, <br />Might never yet of its due honors fail, <br />Though 'neath the earth our realm in unsunned regions pale.<br /><br />Aeschylus<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/song-of-the-furies/
