Oh, a House that loves the stranger, And a House for ever free! And Apollo, the Song-changer, Was a herdsman in thy fee; Yea, a-piping he was found, Where the upward valleys wound, To the kine from out the manger And the sheep from off the lea, And love was upon Othrys at the sound. And from deep glens unbeholden Of the forest to his song There came lynxes streaky-golden, There came lions in a throng, Tawny-coated, ruddy-eyed, To that piper in his pride; And shy fawns he would embolden, Dappled dancers, out along The shadow by the pine-tree's side. And those magic pipes a-blowing Have fulfilled thee in thy reign By thy Lake with honey flowing, By thy sheepfolds and thy grain; Where the Sun turns his steeds To the twilight, all the meads Of Molossus know thy sowing And thy ploughs upon the plain. Yea, and eastward thou art free To the portals of the sea, And Pelion, the unharboured, is but minister to thee. He hath opened wide his dwelling To the stranger, though his ruth For the dead was fresh and welling, For the loved one of his youth. 'Tis the brave heart's cry: "I will fail not, though I die!" Doth it win, with no man's telling, Some high vision of the truth? We may marvel. Yet I trust, When man seeketh to be just And to pity them that wander, God will raise him from the dust.

Chorus Monologue from Alcestis

Rehearse Chorus's monologue