Stasimon 1
[Choral 1]
and Phrygian songs awoke, while maidens beat the ground with airy foot, uplifting their glad song; and in the halls a blaze of torchlight shed its flickering shadows
545
Chorus
on sleeping eyes.
550
[Choral]
In that hour around the house I was singing as I danced to that maiden of the hills, the child of Zeus;
Chorus
when there rang along the town a cry of death which filled the homes of Troy, and babies in terror clung about their mothers’ skirts,
555
as forth from their ambush came the warrior-band, the handiwork of maiden Pallas. Soon the altars ran with Phrygian blood, and desolation reigned over every bed where young men lay beheaded,
560
a glorious crown for Hellas won, for her, the nurse of youth, but for our Phrygian fatherland a bitter grief.
565
