No More Learning

Saw'st thou her raiment there,
Sister, there in the blood?
She drew it back as she stood,
She opened her bosom bare,
She bent her knees to the earth,
The knees that bent in my birth. . . .
And I . . . Oh, her hair, her hair. . . .
[_He breaks into inarticulate weeping_

CHORUS.

Oh, thou didst walk in agony,
Hearing thy mother's cry, the cry
Of wordless wailing, well know I.

ELECTRA.
She stretched her hand to my cheek,
And there brake from her lips a moan;
'Mercy, my child, my own! '
Her hand clung to my cheek;
Clung, and my arm was weak;
And the sword fell and was gone.

CHORUS.

Unhappy woman, could thine eye
Look on the blood, and see her lie,
Thy mother, where she turned to die?

ORESTES.

I lifted over mine eyes
My mantle: blinded I smote,
As one smiteth a sacrifice;
And the sword found her throat.

ELECTRA.

I gave thee the sign and the word;
I touched with mine hand thy sword.

LEADER.

Dire is the grief ye have wrought.

ORESTES.

Sister, touch her again:
Oh, veil the body of her;
Shed on her raiment fair,
And close that death-red stain.
--Mother! And didst thou bear,
Bear in thy bitter pain,
To life, thy murderer?

[_The two kneel over the body of_ CLYTEMNESTRA, _and cover her with
raiment_.

ELECTRA.