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Chorus
In that hour around the house I was singing as I danced to that maiden of the hills, the child of Zeus; [555] when there rang along the town a cry of death which filled the homes of Troy, and babies in terror clung about their mothers' skirts, [560] as forth from their ambush came the warrior-band, the handiwork of maiden Pallas. Soon the altars ran with Phrygian blood, and desolation reigned over every bed where young men lay beheaded, [565] a glorious crown for Hellas won, for her, the nurse of youth, but for our Phrygian fatherland a bitter grief.
Euripides. The Plays of Euripides, translated by E. P. Coleridge. Volume I. London. George Bell and Sons. 1891.
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