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4 For One Belovèd by Many Men

On Paris sent the Atreidae twain;

Yea, sent him dances before the end

For his bridal cheer,

Wrestlings heavy and limbs forespent

For Greek and Trojan, the knee earth-bent,

The bloody dust and the broken spear.

He knoweth, that which is here is here,

And that which Shall Be followeth near;

He seeketh God with a great desire,

He heaps his gifts, he essays his pyre

With torch below and with oil above,

With tears, but never the wrath shall move

Of the Altar cold that rejects his fire.

We saw the Avengers go that day,

And they left us here; for our flesh is old

And serveth not; and these staves uphold

A strength like the strength of a child at play.

For the sap that springs in the young man's hand

And the valour of age, they have left the land.

And the passing old, while the dead leaf blows

And the old staff gropeth his three-foot way,

Weak as a babe and alone he goes,

A dream left wandering in the day.

But thou, O daughter of Tyndareus,

Queen Clytemnestra, what need? What news?

What tale or tiding hath stirred thy mood

To send forth word upon all our ways

For incensed worship? Of every god