Second Stasimon

(DIONYSUS, without his wand, his hair shorn, and his arms tightly bound, is led off by the guards to his dungeon. PENTHEUS returns into the Palace.)

CHORUS. Some Maidens.Acheloues' roaming daughter,Holy Dirce, virgin water,Bathed he not of old in thee,The Babe of God, the Mystery?When from out the fire immortalTo himself his God did take him,To his own flesh, and bespake him:"Enter now life's second portal,Motherless Mystery; lo, I breakMine own body for thy sake,Thou of the Twofold Door, and seal theeMine, O Bromios,"--thus he spake--"And to this thy land reveal thee."

All.Still my prayer toward thee quivers,Dirce, still to thee I hie me;Why, O Blessed among Rivers,Wilt thou fly me and deny me?By His own joy I vow,By the grape upon the bough,Thou shalt seek Him in the midnight, thou shalt loveHim, even now!

Other Maidens.Dark and of the dark impassionedIs this Pentheus' blood; yea, fashionedOf the Dragon, and his birthFrom Echion, child of Earth.He is no man, but a wonder;Did the Earth-Child not beget him,As a red Giant, to set himAgainst God, against the Thunder?He will bind me for his prize,Me, the Bride of Dionyse;And my priest, my friend, is takenEven now, and buried lies;In the dark he lies forsaken!

All.Lo, we race with death, we perish,Dionysus, here before thee!Dost thou mark us not, nor cherish,Who implore thee, and adore thee?Hither down Olympus' side,Come, O Holy One defied,Be thy golden wand uplifted o'er the tyrant in his pride!

A Maiden.Oh, where art thou? In thine ownNysa, thou our help alone?O'er fierce beasts in orient landsDoth thy thronging thyrsus wave,By the high Corycian Cave,Or where stern Olympus stands;In the elm-woods and the oaken,There where Orpheus harped of old,And the trees awoke and knew him,And the wild things gathered to him,As he sang amid the brokenGlens his music manifold?Blessed Land of Pierie,Dionysus loveth thee;He will come to thee with dancing,Come with joy and mystery;With the Maenads at his hestWinding, winding to the West;Cross the flood of swiftly glancingAxios in majesty;Cross the Lydias, the giverOf good gifts and waving green;Cross that Father-Stream of story,Through a land of steeds and gloryRolling, bravest, fairest RiverE'er of mortals seen!