PHAEDRA.

Nay, I will never loosen hold nor breathe

Till thou have slain me; godlike for great brows

Thou art, and thewed as gods are, with clear hair:

Draw now thy sword and smite me as thou art god,

For verily I am smitten of other gods,

Why not of thee?

Poems & Ballads (First Series) · 第 24 / 158 题