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Rh And hard of surmise, Chain of Things that be,

Or Reason of our Reason; God, to thee

I lift my praise, seeing the silent road

That bringeth justice ere the end be trod

To all that breathes and dies.

Ha! who is there

That prayeth heaven, and in so strange a prayer?

I bless thee, Menelaus, I bless thee,

If thou wilt slay her! Only fear to see

Her visage, lest she snare thee and thou fall!

She snareth strong men's eyes; she snareth tall

Cities; and fire from out her eateth up

Houses. Such magic hath she, as a cup

Of death! Do I not know her? Yea, and thou,

And these that lie around, do they not know?

King Menelaus, thy first deed might make

A woman fear. Into my chamber brake

Thine armèd men, and lead me wrathfully.

Methinks, almost, I know thou hatest me.

Yet I would ask thee, what decree is gone

Forth for my life or death?

There was not one