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 There came no hatred upon you

But only pity and anguish

Such as the mother of King Eteocles felt

Gazing upon her two angry sons—

Because of this your peace is wonderful.

Underfoot are a few scant grasses

Amid rusty ruin;

Overhead the last of your larks

Cries shrilly before the broken clouds;

And for your sake, O my Sister,

O daughter of our great Earth-Mother,

Because of your old pain

And long-suffering and sweetness,

Because of the new peace

Which lies so deep upon you,

The chains of my bitterness are broken,

The weight of my despair leaves me.