You, such stuff who compile,  Dare my s...

You, such stuff who compile, 

Dare my songs to upbraid; 

You, whose songs in the style 

Of Cyrene's embraces are made. 

So much for them: but still I'd like to show 

The way in which your monodies are framed 

"O darkly-light mysterious Night, 

What may this Vision mean, 

Sent from the world unseen 

With baleful omens rife; 

A thing of lifeless life, 

A child of sable night, 

A ghastly curdlinisight, 

In black funereal veils, 

With murder, murder in its eyes, 

And great enormous nails? 

Light ye the lanterns, my maidens, and dipping your jugs in the stream,

Draw me the dew of the water, and heat it to boiling and steam;

So will I wash me away the ill effects of my dream. 

God of the sea! 

My dream's come true. 

Ho, lodgers, ho, 

This portent view. 

Glyce has vanished, carrying off my cock, 

My cock that crew! 

O Mania, help! O Oreads of the rock 

Pursue! pursue! 

For I, poor girl, was working within, 

Holding my distaff heavy and full, 

Twir-r-r-r-r-rling my hand as the threads I spin, 

Weaving an excellent bobbin of wool; 

Thinking 'To-morrow I'll go to the fair, 

In the dusk of the morn, and be selling it there.' 

But he to the blue up flew, up flew, on the lightliest tips of his

wings outspread; 

To me he bequeathed but woe, but woe, 

And tears, sad tears, from my eyes o'erflow, 

Which I, the bereaved, must shed, must shed. 

O children of Ida, sons of Crete, 

Grasping your bows to the rescue come; 

Twinkle about on your restless feet, 

Stand in a circle around her home. 

O Artemis, thou maid divine, 

Dictynna, huntress, fair to see, 

O bring that keen-nosed pack of thine, 

And hunt through all the house with me. 

O Hecate, with flameful brands, 

O Zeus's daughter, arm thine hands, 

Those swiftliest hands, both right and left; 

Thy rays on Glyce's cottage throw 

That I serenely there may go, 

And search by moonlight for the theft."

Aristophanes, The Frogs