Page:Trojan Women (Murray 1905).djvu/73

Rh A thousand days of glory, thy last crown

Is here. Dear Hector's shield! Thou shalt lie down

Undying with the dead, and lordlier there

Than all the gold Odysseus' breast can bear,

The evil and the strong!

Child of the Shield-bearer,

Alas, Hector's child!

Great Earth, the All-mother,

Taketh thee unto her

With wailing wild!

Mother of misery,

Give Death his song!

Aye and bitterly

We too weep for thee,

And the infinite wrong!

I make thee whole;

I bind thy wounds, O little vanished soul.

This wound and this I heal with linen white:

O emptiness of aid! Yet let the rite

Be spoken. This and Nay, not I, but he,

Thy father far away shall comfort thee!