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| | Prometheus Bound |
 | | Prometheus, all too plainly I behold: And for the best would counsel thee: albeit Thy brain is subtle. |
 | | I mourn for thee, Prometheus, minished and brought low, Watering my virgin cheeks with these sad drops, that flow From sorrow's rainy fount, to fill soft-lidded eyes With pure libations for thy fortune's obsequies. |
 | | Ah, not thus on me was shed The rapture of sweet music, when I hymned The marriage-song round bath and bridal bed At thine espousals, and of thy blood-kin, A bride thou chosest, wooing her to thee With all good gifts that may a Goddess win, Thy father's child, divine Hesione. |
| www.grayson.edu /grayson/division/artsci/english/1302/prometheus.html (7666 words) |
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