Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/134

132 Here as the queen revolved with careful eyes

The various textures and the various dyes,

She chose a veil that shone superior far,

And glowed refulgent as the morning star.

Herself with this the long procession leads;

The train majestically slow proceeds.

Soon as to Ilion's topmost tower they come,

And awful reach the high Palladian dome,

Antenor's consort, fair Theano, waits

As Pallas' priestess, and unbars the gates.

With hands uplifted and imploring eyes,

They fill the dome with supplicating cries;

The priestess then the shining veil displays,

Placed on Minerva's knees, and thus she prays:

"O awful goddess! ever-dreadful Maid,

Troy's strong defence, unconquered Pallas, aid!

Break thou Tydides' spear, and let him fall

Prone on the dust before the Trojan wall.

So twelve young heifers, guiltless of the yoke,

Shall fill thy temple with a grateful smoke.

But thou, atoned by penitence and prayer,

Ourselves, our infants, and our city spare!"

So prayed the priestess in her holy fane;

So vowed the matrons, but they vowed in vain.

While these appear before the Power with prayers,

Hector to Paris' lofty dome repairs.

Himself the mansion raised, from every part

Assembling architects of matchless art.

Near Priam's court and Hector's palace stands

The pompous structure, and the town commands.

A spear the hero bore of wondrous strength,

Of full ten cubits was the lance's length;

The steely point with golden ringlets joined,

Before him brandished, at each motion shined.

Thus entering, in the glittering rooms he found

His brother-chief, whose useless arms lay round,

His eyes delighting with their splendid show,

Brightening the shield, and polishing the bow.

Beside him Helen with her virgins stands,

Guides their rich labours, and instructs their hands.

Him thus inactive, with an ardent look

The prince beheld, and high resenting spoke:

"Thy hate to Troy is this the time to shew,

O wretch ill-fated, and thy country's foe?

Paris and Greece against us both conspire,

Thy close resentment, and their vengeful ire;

For thee great Ilion's guardian heroes fall,

Till heaps of dead alone defend her wall;

For thee the soldier bleeds, the matron mourns,