Page:Trojan Women (Murray 1905).djvu/40

38 Made happy music through the gloom:

And fires on many an inward room

All night broad-flashing, flung their glare

On laughing eyes and slumber-laden.

I was among the dancers there

To Artemis, and glorying sang

Her of the Hills, the Maid most fair,

Daughter of Zeus: and, lo, there rang

A shout out of the dark, and fell

Deathlike from street to street, and made

A silence in the citadel:

And a child cried, as if afraid,

And hid him in his mother's veil.

Then stalked the Slayer from his den,

The hand of Pallas served her well!

O blood, blood of Troy was deep

About the streets and altars then:

And in the wedded rooms of sleep,

Lo, the desolate dark alone,

And headless things, men stumbled on.

And forth, lo, the women go,

The crown of War, the crown of Woe,

To bear the children of the foe

And weep, weep, for Ilion!