Chorus
Of their coming home I learn with my own eyes and need no other witness.
[990]
Yet still my soul within me, self-inspired, intones the lyreless dirge of the avenging spirit, and cannot wholly win its customary confidence of hope.
[995]
Not for nothing is my bosom disquieted as my heart throbs against my justly fearful breast in eddying tides that warn of some event. But I pray that my expectation may fall out false
[1000]
and not come to fulfilment.