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Chorus
Such piteous strains of woe I utter in my pain, now shrill, now deep, blended with falling tears—Alas, alas! [115] groans appropriate to funeral wails; though I live, I chant my own dirge.
Aeschylus. Aeschylus, with an English translation by Herbert Weir Smyth, Ph. D. in two volumes. 2. Suppliant Women. Herbert Weir Smyth, Ph. D. Cambridge, MA. Harvard University Press. 1926.
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