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Yet thy face as aforetime is cherished

Of Zeus, and the breath of it sweet;

Yea, the beauty of Calm is upon it

In houses at rest and afar.

But thy land, He hath wrecked and o'erthrown it

In the wailing of war.

O Love, ancient Love,

Of old to the Dardan given;

Love of the Lords of the Sky;

How didst thou lift us high

In Ilion, yea, and above

All cities, as wed with heaven!

For Zeus—O leave it unspoken:

But alas for the love of the Morn;

Morn of the milk-white wing,

The gentle, the earth-loving,

That shineth on battlements broken

In Troy, and a people forlorn!

And, lo, in her bowers Tithônus,

Our brother, yet sleeps as of old:

O, she too hath loved us and known us,

And the Steeds of her star, flashing gold,

Stooped hither and bore him above us;

Then blessed we the Gods in our joy.

But all that made them to love us

Hath perished from Troy.