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Rh The watch that guards a parent's lip,

Lets it such dire suggestion slip?

If Heaven in truth has willed to spare

No relic of a town so fair,

If you and all wherein you joy

Must burn to feed the flames of Troy,

See there, Death waits you at the door:

See Pyrrhus, steeped in Priam's gore,

Repeats his double crime once more:

The son before his father's eyes,

The father at the altar dies.

O mother! was it then for this

I passed where fires and javelins hiss

Safe in thy conduct, but to see

Foes in my home's dear sanctuary—

All murdered, father, wife, and child,

Each in the other's blood defiled?

My arms! my arms! the fatal day

Calls, and the vanquished must obey;

Return me to the Danaan crew!

Let me the yielded fight renew!

No; one at least these walls contain

Who will not unavenged be slain.'

Once more I gird me for the field,

And to my arm make fast my shield,

And issue from the door—when see!

Creusa clings around my knee,

And offers with a tender grace

Iulus to his sire's embrace:

'If but to perish forth you fare,

Take us with you your fate to share:

But if you hope that help may come

From sword and shield, first guard your home.

Think, think to whom you leave your child,

Your sire, and her whom bride you styled.'