Chorus:
Thy faithful friends sunk in the roaring main.
Xerxes:
Weep, weep their loss, and lead me to my
house;
Answer my grief with grief, an ill return
Of ills for ills. Yet once more raise that strain
Lamenting my misfortunes; beat thy breast,
Strike, heave the groan; awake the Mysian strain
To notes of loudest wo; rend thy rich robes,
Pluck up thy beard, tear off thy hoary locks,
And battle thine eyes in tears: thus through the
streets
Solemn and slow with sorrow lead my steps;
Lead to my house, and wail the fate of Persia.
Chorus:
Yes, once more at thy bidding shall the
strain
Pour the deep sorrows of my soul;
The suff'rings of my bleeding untry plain,
And bid the Mysian measures roll.
Again the voice of wild despair
With thrilling shrieks shall pierce the air;
For high the god of war his flaming crest
Raised, with the fleet of Greece surrounded,
The haughty arms of Greece with conquest bless'd,
And Persia's withered force confounded,
Dash'd on the dreary beach her heroes slain.,
Or whelm'd them in the darken'd main.
Studies
