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14 That waved in flame beyond the promontory

Rock-ridged, that watches the Saronian sea,

Kindling the night: then one short swoop to catch

The Spider's Crag, our city's tower of watch;

Whence hither to the Atreidae's roof it came,

A light true-fathered of Idaean flame.

Torch-bearer after torch-bearer, behold

The tale thereof in stations manifold,

Each one by each made perfect ere it passed,

And Victory in the first as in the last.

These be my proofs and tokens that my lord

From Troy hath spoke to me a burning word.

Woman, speak on. Hereafter shall my prayer

Be raised to God; now let me only hear,

Again and full, the marvel and the joy.

Now, even now, the Achaian holdeth Troy!

Methinks there is a crying in her streets

That makes no concord. When sweet unguent meets

With vinegar in one phial, I warrant none

Shall lay those wranglers lovingly at one.

So conquerors and conquered shalt thou hear,

Two sundered tones, two lives of joy or fear.

Here women in the dust about their slain,

Husbands or brethren, and by dead old men

Pale children who shall never more be free,

For all they loved on earth cry desolately.

And hard beside them war-stained Greeks, whom stark

Battle and then long searching through the dark