Helen of Troy [24]
and there a bow,
But ruinous seem'd all things and forlorn,
As in some camp forsaken long ago.
VII.
Gorged wolves crept round the altars, and did eat
The flesh of victims that the priests had slain,
And wild dogs fought above the sacred meat
Late offer'd to the deathless Gods in vain,
By men that, for reward of all their pain,
Must haul the ropes, and weary at the oar,
Or, drowning, clutch at foam amid the main,
Nor win their haven on the Argive shore.
VIII.
Not long the young men marvell'd at the sight,
But grasping one a sword, and one the spear
Aias, or Tydeus' son, had borne in fight,
They sped, and fill'd the town with merry cheer,
For folk were quick the happy news to hear,
And pour'd through all the gates into the plain,
Rejoicing as they wander'd far and near,
O'er the long Argive toils endured in vain.
IX.
Ah, sweet it was, without the city walls,
To hear the doves coo, and the finches sing;
Ah, sweet, to twine their true-loves coronals
Of woven wind-flowers, and each fragrant thing
That blossoms in the footsteps of the spring;
And sweet, to lie, forgetful of their grief,
Where violets trail by waters wandering,
And the wild fig-tree putteth forth his leaf!
X.
Now while they wander'd as they would, they found
A wondrous thing: a marvel of man's skill,
That stood within a vale of hollow ground,
And bulk'd scarce smaller than the bitter-hill, -
The common barrow that the dead men fill
Who died in the long leaguer,--not of earth,
Was this new portent, but of tree, and still
The Trojans stood, and marvell'd 'mid their mirth.
XI.
Ay, much they wonder'd what this thing might be,
Shaped like a Horse it was; and many a stain
There show'd upon the mighty beams of tree,
For some with fire were blacken'd, some with rain
Were dank and dark amid white planks of plane,
New cut among the trees that now were few
On wasted Ida; but men gazed in vain,
Nor truth thereof for all their searching knew.
XII.
At length they deem'd it was a sacred thing,
Vow'd to Poseidon, monarch of the deep,
And that herewith the Argives pray'd the King
Of wind and wave to lull the seas to sleep;
So this, they cried, within the sacred keep
Of Troy must rest, memorial of the war;
And sturdily they haled it up the steep,
And dragg'd the monster to their walls afar.
XIII.
All day they wrought: and children crown'd with flowers
Laid light hands on the ropes; old men would ply
Their feeble force; so through the merry hours
They toil'd, midst laughter and sweet minstrelsy,
And late they drew the great Horse to the high
Crest of the hill, and wide the tall gates swang;
But thrice, for all their force, it stood thereby
Unmoved, and thrice like smitten armour rang.
XIV.
Natheless they wrought their will; then altar fires
The Trojans built, and did the Gods implore
To grant fulfilment of all glad desires.
But from the cups the wine they might not pour,
The flesh upon the spits did writhe and roar,
The smoke grew red as blood, and many a limb
Of victims leap'd upon the temple floor,
Trembling; and groans amid the chapels dim
XV.
Rang low, and from the fair Gods' images
And from their eyes, dropp'd sweat and many a tear;
The walls with blood were dripping, and on these
That sacrificed, came horror and great fear;
The holy laurels to Apollo dear
Beside his temple faded suddenly,
And wild wolves from the mountains drew anear,
And ravens through the temples seem'd to fly.
XVI.
Yet still the men of Troy were glad at heart,
And o'er strange meat they revell'd, like folk fey,
Though each would shudder if he glanced apart,
For round their knees the mists were gather'd grey,
Like shrouds on men that Hell-ward take their way;
But merrily withal they feasted thus,
And laugh'd with crooked lips, and oft would say
Some evil-sounding word and ominous.
XVII.
And Hecuba among her children spake,
"Let each man choose
But ruinous seem'd all things and forlorn,
As in some camp forsaken long ago.
VII.
Gorged wolves crept round the altars, and did eat
The flesh of victims that the priests had slain,
And wild dogs fought above the sacred meat
Late offer'd to the deathless Gods in vain,
By men that, for reward of all their pain,
Must haul the ropes, and weary at the oar,
Or, drowning, clutch at foam amid the main,
Nor win their haven on the Argive shore.
VIII.
Not long the young men marvell'd at the sight,
But grasping one a sword, and one the spear
Aias, or Tydeus' son, had borne in fight,
They sped, and fill'd the town with merry cheer,
For folk were quick the happy news to hear,
And pour'd through all the gates into the plain,
Rejoicing as they wander'd far and near,
O'er the long Argive toils endured in vain.
IX.
Ah, sweet it was, without the city walls,
To hear the doves coo, and the finches sing;
Ah, sweet, to twine their true-loves coronals
Of woven wind-flowers, and each fragrant thing
That blossoms in the footsteps of the spring;
And sweet, to lie, forgetful of their grief,
Where violets trail by waters wandering,
And the wild fig-tree putteth forth his leaf!
X.
Now while they wander'd as they would, they found
A wondrous thing: a marvel of man's skill,
That stood within a vale of hollow ground,
And bulk'd scarce smaller than the bitter-hill, -
The common barrow that the dead men fill
Who died in the long leaguer,--not of earth,
Was this new portent, but of tree, and still
The Trojans stood, and marvell'd 'mid their mirth.
XI.
Ay, much they wonder'd what this thing might be,
Shaped like a Horse it was; and many a stain
There show'd upon the mighty beams of tree,
For some with fire were blacken'd, some with rain
Were dank and dark amid white planks of plane,
New cut among the trees that now were few
On wasted Ida; but men gazed in vain,
Nor truth thereof for all their searching knew.
XII.
At length they deem'd it was a sacred thing,
Vow'd to Poseidon, monarch of the deep,
And that herewith the Argives pray'd the King
Of wind and wave to lull the seas to sleep;
So this, they cried, within the sacred keep
Of Troy must rest, memorial of the war;
And sturdily they haled it up the steep,
And dragg'd the monster to their walls afar.
XIII.
All day they wrought: and children crown'd with flowers
Laid light hands on the ropes; old men would ply
Their feeble force; so through the merry hours
They toil'd, midst laughter and sweet minstrelsy,
And late they drew the great Horse to the high
Crest of the hill, and wide the tall gates swang;
But thrice, for all their force, it stood thereby
Unmoved, and thrice like smitten armour rang.
XIV.
Natheless they wrought their will; then altar fires
The Trojans built, and did the Gods implore
To grant fulfilment of all glad desires.
But from the cups the wine they might not pour,
The flesh upon the spits did writhe and roar,
The smoke grew red as blood, and many a limb
Of victims leap'd upon the temple floor,
Trembling; and groans amid the chapels dim
XV.
Rang low, and from the fair Gods' images
And from their eyes, dropp'd sweat and many a tear;
The walls with blood were dripping, and on these
That sacrificed, came horror and great fear;
The holy laurels to Apollo dear
Beside his temple faded suddenly,
And wild wolves from the mountains drew anear,
And ravens through the temples seem'd to fly.
XVI.
Yet still the men of Troy were glad at heart,
And o'er strange meat they revell'd, like folk fey,
Though each would shudder if he glanced apart,
For round their knees the mists were gather'd grey,
Like shrouds on men that Hell-ward take their way;
But merrily withal they feasted thus,
And laugh'd with crooked lips, and oft would say
Some evil-sounding word and ominous.
XVII.
And Hecuba among her children spake,
"Let each man choose