< Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1894) v1.djvu
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46
EURIPIDES.
Chorus.
Thee Fortune hath met,
Strong wrestler, and thrown;
Yet no bounds hast thou set— 890
Admetus.
Woe's me!—
Chorus.
To thy moan.
O, thy burden is heavy!
Admetus.
Alas!
Chorus.
Yet endure it: thou art not alone.
Not thou art the first
Of bereaved ones.
Admetus.
Ah me!
Chorus.
Such tempest hath burst
Upon many ere thee.
Unto each his mischance, when the surges roll up from Calamity's sea.
Admetus.
O long grief and pain
For belovèd ones passed!
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