Page:Trojan Women (Murray 1905).djvu/37

Rh Too late! And will ye leave her downstricken,

A woman, and so old? Raise her again!

Let lie the love we seek not is no love

This ruined body! Is the fall thereof

Too deep for all that now is over me

Of anguish, and hath been, and yet shall be?

Ye Gods Alas! Why call on things so weak

For aid? Yet there is something that doth seek,

Crying, for God, when one of us hath woe.

O, I will think of things gone long ago

And weave them to a song, like one more tear

In the heart of misery. All kings we were;

And I must wed a king. And sons I brought

My lord King, many sons nay, that were naught;

But high strong princes, of all Troy the best.

Hellas nor Troäs nor the garnered East

Held such a mother! And all these things beneath

The Argive spear I saw cast down in death,

And shore these tresses at the dead men's feet.

Yea, and the gardener of my garden great,

It was not any noise of him nor tale

I wept for; these eyes saw him, when the pale

Was broke, and there at the altar Priam fell

Murdered, and round him all his citadel

Sacked. And my daughters, virgins of the fold,

Meet to be brides of mighty kings, behold,

'Twas for the Greek I bred them! All are gone;

And no hope left, that I shall look upon

Their faces any more, nor they on mine.