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I the while, in bridal glee

Lift the glowing, glittering fire.

Hymen! Hymen! all to thee

Flames the torch and rings the lyre.

Bless, Hecatè, the rite;

Send thy soft and holy light

To the virgin's nuptial bed.

Lightly lift the airy tread!

Evan! Evan! dance along.

Holy are the dance and song;

Meetest they to celebrate

My father Priam's blissful fate.

Beauteous-vested maids of Troy,

Sing my song of nuptial joy!

Sing the fated husband led

To my virgin bridal bed."

In another choral song, the rejoicing of Troy, at the very moment when the Greeks, coming out from their ambush in the wooden horse, were stealthily creeping to unbar the gates and admit the host from without, is described:—

Shouted all the people loud

On the rock-built height that stood—

'Come,' they sang, as on they prest,

'Come, from all our toil released,

Lead the blest image to the shrine

Of her the Jove-born Trojan maid-divine.

O'er the toil, the triumph, spread

Silent night her curtained shade,

But Lybian fifes still sweetly rang.

And many a Phrygian air they sang,