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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.

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