Page:Trojan Women (Murray 1905).djvu/70

68 Should see it. O ye Argives, was your spear

Keen, and your hearts so low and cold, to fear

This babe? 'Twas a strange murder for brave men!

For fear this babe some day might raise again

His fallen land! Had ye so little pride?

While Hector fought, and thousands at his side,

Ye smote us, and we perished; and now, now,

When all are dead and Ilion lieth low,

Ye dread this innocent! I deem it not

Wisdom, that rage of fear that hath no thought

Ah, what a death hath found thee, little one!

Hadst thou but fallen fighting, hadst thou known

Strong youth and love and all the majesty

Of godlike kings, then had we spoken of thee

As of one blessèd could in any wise

These days know blessedness. But now thine eyes

Have seen, thy lips have tasted, but thy soul

No knowledge had nor usage of the whole

Rich life that lapt thee round. Poor little child!

Was it our ancient wall, the circuit piled

By loving Gods, so savagely hath rent

Thy curls, these little flowers innocent

That were thy mother's garden, where she laid

Her kisses; here, just where the bone-edge frayed

Grins white above—Ah heaven, I will not see!

Ye tender arms, the same dear mould have ye

As his; how from the shoulder loose ye drop

And weak! And dear proud lips, so full of hope

And closed for ever! What false words ye said

At daybreak, when he crept into my bed,

Called me kind names, and promised: 'Grandmother,

When thou art dead, I will cut close my hair,