Love, unconquerable,
Waster of rich men, keeper
Of warm lights and all-night vigil
In the soft face of a girl:
Sea-wanderer, forest-visitor!
Even the pure immortals cannot escape you,
And mortal man, in his one day’s dusk,
Trembles before your glory.

These lines are from a choral ode in Sophocles’ tragedy *Antigone* (5th century BCE). They occur after the conflict between Antigone and Creon has tightened and as the play turns toward the disastrous consequences of passion within Creon’s household—especially the love binding Haemon (Creon’s son) to Antigone. In Greek tragedy, the chorus often pauses the action to generalize from the immediate situation to a broader truth. Here it invokes Eros as a cosmic, irresistible force that overmasters both gods and humans, framing the personal and political catastrophe of the drama as, in part, the work of an unconquerable power.

The ode personifies Love (Eros) as a ravaging, lawless power: it “wastes” the wealthy, keeps lovers awake through the night, and roams sea and forest, crossing all boundaries. The point is not sentimental romance but the terrifying universality of desire—its ability to unseat reason, status, and even divine immunity. In *Antigone*, this meditation sharpens the tragedy’s moral complexity: alongside questions of law, kinship, and piety, Sophocles highlights how human choices are also driven by forces that feel larger than the self. Love’s “glory” inspires awe and fear because it can make noble intentions destructive and make the strong tremble.