Iphigenia in Tauris (Preview)

Iphigenia: Dreams, dreams, gather to me! Bear me on wings over the sea; O joy of the night, to slave and free, One good thing that abideth! 3. BIRD OF THE SEA ROCKS Iphigenia Bird of the sea rocks, of the bursting spray, O halcyon bird, That wheelest crying, crying, on thy way; Who knoweth grief can read the tale of thee: One love long lost, one song for ever heard And wings that sweep the sea. Chorus Sister, I too beside the sea complain, A bird that hath no wing. Oh, for a kind Greek market-place again, For Artemis that healeth woman’s pain; Here I stand hungering. Iphigenia Give me the little hill above the sea, The palm of Delos fringed delicately, The young sweet laurel and the olive-tree Grey-leaved and glimmering; Chorus O Isle of Leto, Isle of pain and love; The Orbed Water and the spell thereof; Where still the Swan, minstrel of things to be, Doth serve the Muse and sing! Spoken Ah, the old tears, the old and blinding tears I gave God then, When my town fell, and noise was in mine ears Of crashing towers, and forth they guided me Through spears and lifted oars and angry men Out to an unknown sea. PEV01 – xii

They bought my flesh with gold, and sore afraid I came to this dark East To serve, in thrall to Agamemnon’s maid, This Huntress Artemis, to whom is paid The blood of no slain beast; Yet all is bloody where I dwell, Ah me! Envying, envying that misery That through all life hath endured changelessly. For hard things borne from birth Make iron of man’s heart, and hurt the less. ‘Tis change that paineth; and the bitterness Of life’s decay when joy hath ceased to be That makes dark all the earth. Chorus Behold, two score and ten there be Rowers that row for thee, And a wild hill air, as if Pan were there, Shall sound on the Argive sea, Piping to set thee free. Or is it the stricken string Of Apollo’s lyre doth sing Joyously, as he guideth thee To Athens, the land of spring; While I wait wearying? Oh, the wind and the oar, When the great sail swells before, With sheets astrain, like a horse on the rein; And on, through the race and roar, She feels for the farther shore. Iphigenia Ah me, To rise upon wings and hold Straight upon the steeps of gold Where the joyous Sun in fire doth run, Till the wings should faint and fold O’er the house that was mine of old: Or watch where the glade below With a marriage dance doth glow, And a child will glide from her mother’s side Out, out, where the dancers flow: As I did, long ago. PEV01 – xiii