Ion By Euripides

Ion
By Euripides

ION (chanting) Now flames this radiant chariot of the sun

High oer the earth, at whose ethereal fire The stars into the sacred night retreat: Oer the Parnassian cliffs the ascending wheels To mortals roll the beams of day; the wreaths Of incense-breathing myrrh mount to the roof Of Phoebus fane; the Delphic priestess now Assumes her seat, and from the hallowd tripod Pronounces to the Greeks the oracular strains Which the god dictates. Haste, ye Delphic train, Haste to Castalias silver-streaming fount; Bathed in its chaste dews to the temple go;
There from your guarded mouths no sound be heard But of good omen, that to those who crave Admission to the oracle, your voice May with auspicious words expound the answers.

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