Chorus
O breeze, breeze of the sea,
[445]
that wafts swift galleys, ocean's coursers, across the surging main! Where will you bear me, the sorrowful one? To whose house shall I be brought, to be his slave and chattel?
[450]
to some haven in the Dorian land, or in Phthia, where men say Apidanus, father of fairest streams, makes fat and rich the soil?