and I tremble whenever she alludes to the project of a，
The bolt of Zeus descends once more.
My spirit quails and cowers: my hair
Bristles for fear. Again that flare!
What doth the lightning-flash portend?
Ever it points to issues grave.
Dread powers of air! Save, Zeus, O save!
Daughters, upon me the predestined end
Has come; no turning from it any more.
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