 | Voices and visions |  |
118
HELEN, OLD
There, in my mirror's gloss of steel,
Jeers the gaunt mockery I am grown.
For me did heroes bleed and reel?
For me was Ilium overthrown?
For me did Greece, in those wild years,
Throng her dark ships with wrathful spears?
Jeers the gaunt mockery I am grown.
For me did heroes bleed and reel?
For me was Ilium overthrown?
For me did Greece, in those wild years,
Throng her dark ships with wrathful spears?
Did grand Achilles, frowning doom,
Slay glorious Hector, and then drag
His body about Patroclus' tomb
For me, this bony and withered hag?
For these blanched lips and locks of snow
Did tides of scarlet slaughter flow?
Slay glorious Hector, and then drag
His body about Patroclus' tomb
For me, this bony and withered hag?
For these blanched lips and locks of snow
Did tides of scarlet slaughter flow?
This wreck with beauty a brief sweet while,
Ah, pitying goddess, re-endow!
Give me again the auroral smile,
The sunlight hair, the moonlight brow,
The heaven of eyes, the heaven of head—
Then, if thy mood wills, dash me dead!
Ah, pitying goddess, re-endow!
Give me again the auroral smile,
The sunlight hair, the moonlight brow,
The heaven of eyes, the heaven of head—
Then, if thy mood wills, dash me dead!
| Voices and visions | |