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Cornell University Library 
 PR 5112.0612 
 
 Idylls of Ilium, and other verses. 
 
 3 1924 013 530 658 
 
'M 
 
 Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/cletails/cu31924013530658 
 
IDYLLS OF ILIUM, ETC. 
 
®a:fnt» 
 
 PRINTED BY HORACE HART, PRINTER TO THE UNIVERSITY 
 
IDYLLS OF ILIUM 
 
 AND OTHER VERSES 
 
 OCTAVIUS OGLE, M.A. 
 
 SOMETIME FELLOW OF LINCOLN COLLEGE, OXFORD. 
 
 OXFORD 
 
 B. H. BLACKWELL, 50 and 51 BROAD STREET. 
 
 1887 
 
A. \'i\'\^\ 
 
XIV Idylls of Ilium. 
 
CHRYSES. 
 
 Chryses, the Priest, strode by the sounding sea, 
 
 Which broke, and chafed, and spent itself in foam, 
 
 As he in anger ; and his snow-white hair 
 
 Streamed from the snow-white fillet on his brow; 
 
 The sacred bay-branch trembled in his hand, 
 
 And strewed the shore with leaves; the golden staff, 
 
 His priesthood's symbol, wreathed with suppliant wool, 
 
 Struck in the sand-drifts at each hasty step. 
 
 With added weight of passion ; bitter tears 
 
 Mixed with the bitter sea-spray down his cheek; 
 
 And all his aspect was of one whose life 
 
 Has lost its dearest, and naught else remains 
 
 But blank abandonment, and dull despair. 
 
 Yet scarce one moon had waned, since Chrysa's towers, 
 
 B a 
 
IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Nestled in Ida's sunny folds, looked down 
 
 In peace on peaceful Thebe; nor had sound 
 
 Of neighbours vexed with war, nor any fear. 
 
 Troubled their rest ; but daily smoke went up 
 
 Of sheep, and wheaten flour, and fat of beeves. 
 
 And all the land was guarded by its god. 
 
 How changed the picture now ! No bleat of sheep, 
 
 No lowing kine, nor glow of altar-fires, 
 
 But women's wailings, and great gouts of blood. 
 
 And trampled cornfields, and the sullen smoke 
 
 Of ruined rafters, marked the spoilers' way. 
 
 Gone was all peace; gone, too, the fairest maid 
 
 That ever twined a wreath of amaranth, 
 
 Or wove a shrine with flowers. Day by day. 
 
 Flitting in simple service to and fro. 
 
 The young Chryseis, white-robed, golden-haired. 
 
 Had brought new sunshine to the Sun-God's courts. 
 
 And to her father's heart enduring joy. 
 
 Priest Chryses. He, soon as the sudden storm 
 
 Had swept and passed, with trembling haste pursued 
 
I. CHRYSES. 
 
 The invaders' backward path, nor slept, nor ate, 
 Till in the council of the Chiefs, and face 
 Of Agamemnon, King of men, he stood. 
 The father's passion, and the outraged name 
 Of Priest, and proffered treasures of the shrine, 
 Won all the Princes to the old man's prayer; 
 Only Atreides, blind with lust of power, 
 Brooked not the thwarting of his lightest will 
 And spake an evil menace, — 'Dotard, hence! 
 Thy maiden hath found favour in my sight; 
 Therefore, begone ; nor let mine eyes again. 
 Or now or ever, see thee at the ships, 
 Lest worse befall thee, nor yon bauble-gauds 
 Avail to shield thine hoary insolence.' 
 
 So spake the King, infatuate, nor knew 
 Kindling Apollo's anger. But the Priest 
 Shrank silent, fear, amazement, anger, grief, 
 O'ermastering speech, and passed with aimless feet, 
 That knew not where they trod, yet blindly sought 
 The sympathy of solitude, and stir 
 
IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Of angry seas ; till all his soul went forth 
 
 In one fierce cry, that cleft the startled air, 
 
 And shrieked its way to Heaven, — 'Apollo, hear! 
 
 God of the silvern bow, whose steps were erst 
 
 Around my Chrysa, who encompassest 
 
 ^olian Cilia, and thy might is known 
 
 In white-clififed Tenedos! By all thy names, 
 
 Where'er thou art, I, Chryses, claim thine aid! 
 
 Slayer of vilest vermin, Sminthian, hear 
 
 Thy Priest ! If all my boyhood, manhood, age, 
 
 Have been a willing bondage to thy shrine. 
 
 If lavished ornament, and stately piles. 
 
 And blood of bulls and goats, and incense-smoke, 
 
 Have done thee aught of grateful service, hear! 
 
 Hear my one prayer, and let thine arrows smite 
 
 This godless horde of ravishers, who come 
 
 To wreak their vengeance for the thing they do; — 
 
 Wreak Thou thy vengeance. Master, with thy shafts, 
 
 And let their lives atone thy servant's tears.' 
 
 There his voice brake with passion. But the God 
 
CHRYSES. 
 
 Had heard, and rose, and veiled his awful face 
 
 In night more awful ; and the far-off sands, 
 
 Where late the suppliant's agony had stamped 
 
 The feeble footprints of his wrath, now shewed 
 
 A sudden wall of blackness. Shafts of fire, 
 
 Blinding, unearthly, unendurable. 
 
 Reft a white chasm ever and anon, 
 
 And flashed and vanished; and with every shaft 
 
 A Grecian life was quenched. Nine nights, nine days, 
 
 The blackness, and the fire, and death, and .fear. 
 
 Were round the ships; and on the tenth the King 
 
 Was broken, for the curse of Gods and men 
 
 Weighed heavy on him, and his sullen soul 
 
 Was bowed, perforce, to let the maiden go. 
 
II. 
 
 DOLON. 
 
 DOLON, Eumedes' son, was swift of foot. 
 
 But mean of form, nor in the battle-field 
 
 Of count, nor in the councils of the Chiefs, 
 
 And greed possessed his soul. Though countless store 
 
 Of brass and gold was in his father's house. 
 
 And he the only heir to all his wealth, 
 
 Yet lust of riches ever drave him on, 
 
 As Eurus drives a galleon o'er the sea 
 
 Of some fond merchant, who for love of gain 
 
 Barters his life. So Dolon ; for when night 
 
 Was gathered round the Trojans on the plain, 
 
 Spake Hector, ' Now, since darkness stays our path, 
 
 And these cowed Greeks, till morning dawn, are safe 
 
 Within their fencework, who among you all 
 
11. DOLON. 
 
 Is bold to grasp the prize I offer him? 
 Whoso across the plain to yonder ships 
 Shall win his, unseen way, and bring report, 
 Whether the wonted watchmen pace their round, 
 Or haply hope forsake them, and they plan 
 Some instant flight, him shall the choicest steeds, 
 His prize, and costliest chariot of the Greeks, 
 Bear through the opened Scaean gate to Troy, 
 And men of after years shall praise his name.' 
 
 So Hector spake, standing by Ilus' tomb, 
 Because he knew not that the gods ordained 
 Short breathing time to Troy, and sudden doom. 
 But straight in Dolon's mind arose a strife 
 As, at the issuing forth of some great stream. 
 This way and that the meeting waters strive, 
 The river and the sea, and toss their waves. 
 And mingle tumult, till the one prevails; 
 So coward love of life, and greed of gain, 
 Battled in Dolon's heart, till, at the last, 
 Greed conquered, and the man stood forth, and spake : 
 
 c 
 
lO IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 ' Hector, my manly soul within me prompts 
 To seek the ships, and hither bring report, 
 Whether the wonted watch be set, or hope 
 Forsake them, and they plan some instant flight ; 
 But do thou take thy sceptre in thy hand, 
 And swear me a great oath that thou wilt give 
 Achilles' chariot and his steeds, my prize. 
 To bear me through the Scaean gate to Troy, 
 That men of after years may praise my name. 
 Then will I bring true tidings, and will go, 
 Yea, if need be, to Agamemnon's ship. 
 Where sit, belike, the Princes in debate, 
 Whether to fly or battle to the end.' 
 
 So spake he, feigning manhood ; for he knew 
 Xanthus and Balius, Achilles' steeds, 
 Swift as the wind, one bay, one flecked with white, 
 Beyond all price. And Hector sware the oath : 
 And round his shoulders Dolon slung his bow. 
 And donned a grey wolfs hide, and on his head 
 A marten's fur, close fitted, to beseem 
 
11. DOLON. 1 1 
 
 Some prowling beast of night, and, spear in hand, 
 Shoreward through darkness took his treacherous way; 
 Not to return. For near the bivouac lurked 
 Tydeides, with the comrade of his choice, 
 Odysseus, versed in wiles ; they from the ships, 
 At Nestor's bidding, had come forth to spy 
 The Trojans' purpose; now, upon the sand, 
 Strewn with the slain, they crouched, while Dolon passed ; 
 Then, when his path had measured such a space, 
 As two stout mules, straining a deep-plunged' plough. 
 May outstrip oxen in a furrow's length, 
 Sprang in pursuit. And Dolon fled ; but they, 
 As wary hounds that chase a fleet-foot hare, 
 Follow untiring, nor does bush, nor ditch, 
 Foil them, nor mazy threadings of the wood ; 
 So they, untiring, chased their fleet-foot prey. 
 Checking, with hunters' skill, his backward path. 
 And now they neared the ships, and Diomede 
 Was strengthened by Athene, lest some Greek, 
 Loitering without the trench, should snatch his prize ; 
 
 C 2 
 
12 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 And stretched his hand, and grasped his caitiff foe ; 
 And, after short stern question, and return 
 Of traitorous answer, and relentless scoff 
 At proffered ransom and at piteous prayer, 
 Shore, with one stroke, e'en as he spake, his head 
 From off his shoulders, as a woodman shears 
 An undergrowth that twines about his feet. 
 And Dolon fell, as a snake falls, that lies 
 Coiled on a wayside bank, and rears its head. 
 Hissing, and some chance traveller, passing by. 
 Strikes with his staff, and sunders, and the coils 
 Straightway are loosened, and the thing lies dead. 
 So Dolon's limbs were loosened, and the life 
 Fled from him, and his slayers went their way.. 
 
in. 
 
 RHESUS. 
 
 'I, Rhesus, son of great Eroneus,-^" 
 
 By favour of Lord Ares, King of .Thrace, 
 
 Subject alone to Ares, and to Me, — - 
 
 Hither, at bidding of my father's friend, 
 
 King, Prianij and to win myself renown, 
 
 Have come, with store of wealth, and men, and arms. 
 
 To rid the toiling Trojans of their fear, - 
 
 And drive the rabble Greeklings from the land. 
 
 For thus the god hath ordered, that so soon 
 
 As these my steeds, whiter than whitest snow. 
 
 Swifter than wind, have grazed the Trojan plain. 
 
 And drunk the Xanthus,' all the might of Greece, 
 
14 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Proud Agamemnon, and the stubborn strength 
 
 Of Ajax, and Laertes' subtle son, 
 
 Yea, and the vaunted champion of their crew, 
 
 Achilles' self, shall fall beneath my sword. 
 
 And all their spoil be mine. Then Troy shall hail 
 
 Me her deliverer; and the King shall drain 
 
 His treasury for the ransom of his race, 
 
 And the white-bosomed Trojan maids shall sue 
 
 The honours of my couch. Therefore my ships 
 
 Have dared broad Hellespont, and all my train, 
 
 Climbing the weary Phrygian hills, has reached 
 
 These wind-swept plains that compass Ilium. 
 
 And now what welcome greets me? Sure, I thought. 
 
 Or Priam, or his Hector, would be here. 
 
 To do me honour, and admire my wealth. 
 
 For either they know not that I have come. 
 
 Or else they know not of the wealth I bring. 
 
 Vessels of gold, and chariots overlaid 
 
 With gold, and golden harness for my steeds, 
 
 And armour, such as never man before 
 
in. RHESUS. 15 
 
 Hath worn, beseeming the Immortal Gods, 
 
 A marvel to behold. Now, by the might 
 
 Of Ares, arid to show what man I am, 
 
 Here will I camp this night, nearest the Greeks, 
 
 Beside these men of Caria, Mysia, 
 
 Cauconians, Leleges, — I know not what ; 
 
 Here will I camp, nor shall my horses taste 
 
 The grass of Troy, nor drink their Trojan streams. 
 
 Till, in to-morrow's battle, I shall slay 
 
 Some rich-armed Greek; it may be Diomede, 
 
 Or whom the god shall cast into my hands. 
 
 Then will I lade my chariot with the spoil, 
 
 And ride through shouting Trojan throngs to Troy.' 
 
 So Rhesus spake, and bade his Thracian serfs 
 There, on the sands, outside the Trojan lines, 
 Set up the broidered splendour of his tent, 
 Wrought in Edonian looms, and spread the meal. 
 Then, when the meal was done, they brimmed the wine, 
 Red, fragrant, luscious^ such as Thracians love,, ' 
 
 And Rhesus drank his fill till eventide. 
 
1 6 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Then in three Ijn'es they drew .the chariots up, 
 Chariot by chariot," and hy each its steeds : 
 But Rhesus' steeds, whiter than whitest snow, 
 Swifter than wind, a marvel to behold. 
 They tethered to his golden chariot-rail. 
 And set their harness on, and silvern- troughs 
 Before them, filled with barley ; and bestowed 
 The golden armour in the gilded car ; 
 That with the dawn their King might try the war, 
 And taste his proinised triumphs. 
 
 As an ox 
 Stall-fed, beside his manger, lays him down. 
 Sleek with content, nor dreams to-morrow's sun 
 Will bring the slayer, and the slayer's knife, 
 So, filled with wine and food, upon the sands, 
 Beside his steeds, King Rhesus laid him down ; 
 And darkness fell, and all the plain was still. 
 
 Then to the tent, beneath the darkness, stole, 
 Guided by coward Dolon from the ships, 
 Tydeides, and Laertes' subtle .son ; 
 
in. RHESUS. 1 7 
 
 And the next morning saw a headless corse, 
 Which had been Rhesus, and the horses gone : 
 Nor ever did th,ey taste of Trojan grass, 
 Nor drank of Xanthus, but in alien stalls 
 Fed careless, and forgat their Thracian lord. 
 
 D 
 
IV. 
 
 MENELAUS. 
 
 'Was it a dream from out the ivory gate, 
 
 The same sad dream that ever, night and day, 
 
 Mocks me with fond delusion, and hot shame 
 
 Mantles upon my forehead, that the man 
 
 That is in me in battle, should give place 
 
 To thoughts of her, — I have not named her name 
 
 Through all these weary years, — it was no dream! 
 
 She stood on yonder turret, veiled in white; 
 
 The elders round, and Priam's aged self. 
 
 Greeted her steps with no unloving looks. 
 
 Yet, sure, a reverend wisdom such as his, 
 
 Gazing upon the ruin of his land, 
 
 Should shrink with loathing, — can it be, that force. 
 
 Brute force of brigands, that day ? Let me think ! 
 
IV. MENELAUS. 1 9 
 
 Think, what else is it that I do but think — 
 Think, think, till thought devours me, — let it be! 
 And yet, methought, some look of wistfulness, 
 Some far-off dream of sadness in her eyes, 
 
 That seemed,^ if I had beckoned, Now, may Earth 
 
 Yawn wide for me, and Zeus's thunderbolt 
 Hurl me to utter Hades, ere such deed 
 Shame me before the Princes ! Oh, I know — 
 How can I fail to know — their thoughts of scorn, 
 Old Nestor, with his tales of bygone wars. 
 And , wisdom earned by thrice the age of men ; 
 Wolf Ajax, harder than his bull's-hide shield, 
 Eager to lap his daily dole of blood ; 
 Achilles, ever, brooding o'er his doom; 
 Yea, he, their noblest, he who pledged this host 
 To me and to my quarrel, King of men. 
 My own true brother, mingles with his love 
 Some look of pity, some sad thought of those 
 Whose bones lie hidden in this dust of Troy. 
 And well it were that I were laid with them, 
 
 D 2 
 
20 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Or in some midway depth, with sand and slime 
 
 O'erheaped, that none might know my grave, and say, 
 
 'This mound is his, who wrought great woe to Greece,' 
 
 And curse the day my mother bare a son. 
 
 Yet have I never sought my private wealth, 
 
 Ransom of men, and arms, and captive maids, 
 
 Nor in the Princes' council claimed my place. 
 
 To order the array, or fence the ships, 
 
 Chide or encourage ; but have ate my heart 
 
 In silence, caring for one only thing, 
 
 If Zeus, who guards the homes and hearths of men, 
 
 May give me in the field to front my foe 
 
 Who did the wrong, that men of after-time 
 
 May fear the like. But never, face to face. 
 
 In equal hazard of the spear and sword, 
 
 Has caitiff Alexander dared to meet 
 
 The man he wronged so foully. Yea, this morn, 
 
 I saw him in the vaward of their lines. 
 
 Flaunting the godlike beauty of his limbs. 
 
 And all the passion leapt in me that leaps 
 
IV. MENELAUS. 2 1 
 
 Within the lion's heart, what time he sees 
 The slayer of his mate, and recks not darts, 
 Nor circling bay of hounds, nor flaming brands. 
 So he may reach and rend ; so sprang I forth. 
 And he, — he ran! Can she have sunk so low. 
 To love a coward? Could I think her will 
 
 Was privy to the deed, But no ! some charm 
 
 Of Aphrodite, bane of gods and men. 
 Some cursed philtre poisoned all her blood, 
 And stained the whiteness of her soul, till faith 
 Was fouled to faithlessness! O me! the shame. 
 The misery, when the Gods make sport with men, 
 Working their wanton pleasure ! 
 
 Stay, I hear 
 An unfamiliar voice, that sounds my name : 
 ' Paris, this day, for Helen and her wealth, 
 Will fight in single battle to the death 
 With Menelaus, that the war may cease, 
 And Greek and Trojan be at one again.' 
 O Zeus! it may be,— must be! Yes,— that look! 
 
2 2 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 She saw his shame this morning; — her's the thought,- 
 She gives him to my sword 1 Now, all the Gods 
 Be thanked, and Thou, most great, most glorious. 
 Strengthen this arm to strike one downright blow, 
 And free her from the fipell! Armour, my men. 
 Give me my armour, — bid my brother come, — 
 Prepare the victim, — haste Talthybius here, — 
 I will have Priam's oath, — no false boy's word, — 
 Will she be there to see ? — O heart within. 
 Burst not with .beating, till this day be done, 
 And Greece shall smile forgiveness of the past. 
 And she — that look ! — she shall be mine again ! ' 
 
V. 
 
 PATROCLUS. 
 
 ' Rouse thecj Patroclus, fire is on the ships, 
 And Hector's crest is flaunting in our lines; 
 Rouse thee, Menoetius' son ; thou hast thy wish ; 
 Don thou my harness ; me my vow forbids ' « • 
 To help thee, save by counsel and by prayer.' 
 
 Achilles spake, and straight Patroclus rose, 
 The genial comrade, who, amid the strife 
 Of Kings, and war of angry utterance, 
 Held even balance, to his outraged friend 
 Heart-true, yet ever strove with kindly words 
 To hush the jarring discord, urging peace. 
 So, when the tide of Troy's triumphant war 
 Beat back the baffled Greeks, Patroclus prayed 
 To don Achilles' harness, and go forth 
 
24 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Clad in his likeness, for within him stirred 
 
 A hope of passion quelled, the maid restored, 
 
 And peace within the camp, and captured Troy. 
 
 Now, therefore, at the bidding of his lord, . 
 
 In haste he took the armour, piece by piece, 
 
 And clothed his limbs about, greaves, corslet, helm, 
 
 All save the massy spear, by Chiron hewn 
 
 In Pelion's ash woods, which none else could wield. 
 
 None but Achilles. Round his breast he slung 
 
 The baldrick, and the silver-studded sword, 
 
 And shapely-circled shield ; and silent stood. 
 
 Long musing, for Peleides at the ships 
 
 Was marshalling the battle of his men. 
 
 Then, smiling sadly, to himself he spake, 
 
 ' Lo, now, what thing is this that I would do ? 
 
 To wear the armour of the greatest chief 
 
 That ever trode the causeways of the war! 
 
 Like to a foolish man, unskilled in fight, 
 
 Who arms him with the armour of a king 
 
 Slain in the battle, and himself is slain 
 
•V. PATROCLUS. 25 
 
 By some strong foeman, who desires his spoil. 
 And well it may be that I, too, am slain ; 
 For what am I, that I should face the wrath 
 Of Hector, who will surely spy these arms, 
 Or else a lying word will come to him 
 Of great Achilles iiewly roused to war. 
 Then fearj perchance, will cloud his darkened soul, 
 And drive him to the shelter of the walls; 
 Or if the War-god stir him, he will range 
 The forefront of the fight, a:nd search me out ; 
 Small chance, I ween, will then be mine to 'scape 
 The spear, of Hector and the dogs of Troy. 
 But either way, my purpose is fulfilled ; 
 For if the -Trojans fly before these arms, 
 Then proud AtreideSj clothed in shamelessness. 
 Will know his folly, and^restofe the maid. 
 And all the Princes be" at one again. 
 Or, if the Gods who fight for Troy prevail. 
 And Hector kill me, not without renown, 
 Nor unrevengcd, will be the death I die; 
 
 E 
 
26 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 For well I know Achilles will arise, 
 
 And slay and slay, nqr slack his dreadful wrath, 
 
 Till Hector and the. hope of Troy be dead. 
 
 But thoughts like these are as the idle wind; 
 
 For all the issues of the things to b? 
 
 Lie in the hollow of the hand, of Z^ns, 
 
 Who raiseth .whom he will, and striketh, down. 
 
 Only my mind is, set to do this deed. 
 
 For love of great. Achilles, and the weal. 
 
 Of Greece ; and, if I fall by- Hector's spear, 
 
 A brave man by a braver .will be slain.' , 
 
 So mused Patroclus, and .went forth, and saw 
 Where the great Ca(ptain, skilled. iii strategy^ 
 Fashioned the foursquare phalwx of his men. 
 As when a master-builder shapes, a wall: 
 With fair-hewn ashlars, fitting each to each, , 
 So shield by shield and helm by helm he set > 
 His serried Myrmidons; and they, as wolves, 
 Whom winter long hath cheated of their prey. 
 Ravin for blood, and scarce endure to wait, 
 
PATROCLUS. 27 
 
 Till spring-tide bursts the fetters of the earth, 
 And fills the folds anew, so these scarce brooked 
 The stern behest- of discipliilei, so fierce 
 Their lust of blood, and longing for the fray. 
 
 Then forth before them went Patroclus, clothed 
 In all the fatal splendour of his arms, 
 Presaging death ; but not the less his heart 
 Was strong within him, and his arm" to slay. 
 And thrice he mide at Troy,' and thrice his wheels 
 Were clogged' vn\h Trojan blood ; and thrice he clomb 
 The steep escarpment. Then the Archer-god 
 In anger smot'd his helmet, and his limbs 
 Were loosed beneath him, arfd in back and breast 
 Pierced by Euphorbus' and by Hector's spears, 
 He gave to Hades no unwillingf life. 
 And wrought his steadfast purpose to its end. 
 
 E 2 
 
VI. ' ■■' - ■■ 
 
 LYCAON. 
 
 Down from the cfags of highest Pergamus, 
 
 In broken lines of tillage, eastward sloped 
 
 King Priam's orchard ; where through frequent rocks 
 
 The wild fig forced a crannied way, to lend 
 
 The trailing vines its strength; and pomegranates. 
 
 Citrons, and all the wealth of Phrygia's soil. 
 
 Basked, undisturbed, for never, foeman's eye 
 
 Had marked the sheltered prize, nor foeman's foot 
 
 Dared the steep cliff. Only a postern gate, ; 
 
 Screened by huge boulders, through the topmost wall 
 
 Gave secret passage. Hither, when the dews 
 
 Of falling night were thick, all careless tripped 
 
 Ill-starred Lycaon, whom Laothoe bore 
 
 To Priam, twin with ill-starred Polydore, 
 
VI. LYCAON. 29 
 
 And twin their doom. This one, with careless knife, 
 Was shaping to his use a sapling shaft, 
 His chariot's future rim, when on his ear 
 Sudden, and "sudden on his shoulder, srnpte 
 The dreadful voice and hand of Peleus^ son. 
 Unhappy boy! where now thy childish dreams 
 Of playmates, and the chariot-race, and crown, 
 And battle's easy triumphs? Lemnian rocks 
 For Troy's rich champaign, for a mother's arms 
 The carking chain, for freedom of the field 
 The master's menaced lash, and squalid cell. 
 These were the boohs thy captor's ruth bestowed, 
 Not yet all ruthless, for the war was young, 
 And young the prisoner boy, nor outraged pride, 
 Nor grief for dead Patroclus, and the hat6 
 Of Priam's seed, had chilled Achilles' heart 
 To utter stone. So, for six weary years, 
 Lycaon pined in Lemnos ; then -kind fate, — 
 Kind fate, or cruel fate, — from Imbros brought 
 Eetion. He, for lost Laothoe's love, 
 
30 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 And memory of his kinsmen, sire and sons, 
 Slain in one day 'neath Plapian Thebe's walls 
 By fell Achilles, stinted not his gold 
 To loose the captive's chain, and brought him safe 
 To friendly Phrygia's shores, where life, and love. 
 And home, and freedom were his own again. 
 Ah! happy wretch, how swift the hours went by, 
 From dawn to dark one passion of delight, 
 From dark to dawn one paradise of peace! 
 Eleven swift days, eleven swift nights, no more; 
 For on the twelfth, an eager word was sent 
 Through all the city to go forth, and aid 
 The rout of vanquished Greece. Lycaon. heard, 
 And straight his boyish soul was fain tq face 
 The untried battle. So with Polydore, 
 Till noon was blazing in the middle heaven, 
 He scoured the plain; then grim Achilles' spear 
 Drank the life-blood of Polydore; and grief. 
 And fear, and heat, and weariness o'ercame 
 His brother's spirit. Shield away and sword 
 
VI. LYCAON. 
 
 He flung, and headldng sought the caverhed banks 
 
 Of silver-eddying Xanthus, if the throng 
 
 Might pass him by, till kindly evening's shade's 
 
 Should screen' him from the slayer. ' But stern fate 
 
 Was other purposed. ScaVcethe boy had stepped 
 
 Ten paces from the str&am, when lo ! the form 
 
 That haunted all hi^ thought! Alike amazed, 
 
 The one with fear, the one with gathering wrath. 
 
 Captive and captor met. Achilles first : 
 
 'Ye Gods! is this cursed' seed of Priam doomed 
 
 To vex my soul for ever, that yon boy; 
 
 Sold into far-ioff Lemnbs, meets me here, 
 
 To mock toy misspent mercy.? Fool, to dream 
 
 That aught of mei-cy "lives, Patroclus dead ! ' 
 
 To whom Lycaon : ' Not of Hector's blood, 
 Nor guilty of Patroclus, nor the war, 
 Am I, unhappy ; but have broke thy bread, 
 And hold my life from thee, a sacred gift. 
 Which may not be revoked. Now, therefore, take 
 Large ransom, what thou wilt, but let me live ! 
 
IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 For sweet is life, yea, to a slave who lives 
 His life in utter- bondage, chained with chains, 
 As I in Lemnos, sweeter far than death, 
 The dismal dreadfulness of. gibbering ghosts, 
 And Hades' horrid halls! . O, Jet me live!' 
 
 Then answer made Achilles, stern and slow : — 
 ' Yea, is life sweet ? ThinVst thou I know it not : 
 I, who shall die before my day, nor. see 
 Old Peleus, nor my Phthian home again ; 
 But Hades shall possess me, when my wrath 
 Is wreaked on Hector, and on Hector's kin. 
 Die, therefore, stripling ; .be|:ter men than thou 
 Must bide their idoom.' And with the word, he drave 
 Hilt-deep his sword.; and Xanthus' reddened waves 
 Rolled on, with dead Lycaon, to the sea. 
 
VII. 
 
 AGAMEMNON. 
 
 ' For that the princes to the pride of place 
 
 Chose me in Argos, and for love of fame, 
 
 And honour of a brother, to this land 
 
 Came I, the King of countless ships and men. 
 
 But I am weary of the war, for Zeus 
 
 Bound me to evil destiny with words 
 
 Of lying promise, saying I should sack 
 
 This city, and should load my ships with spoil, 
 
 And sail the homeward seas, and reach my home. 
 
 But thrice three years upon these windy plains 
 
 We battle, nor doth any end appear; 
 
 So that the princes' hearts are stirred to wrath, 
 
 Odysseus, Diomedes, and the rest. 
 
 Murmuring to do my bidding, and are like 
 
 To scorn my kingship, for they say that Zeus 
 
 Hath given the sceptre to one faint of heart, 
 
 F 
 
IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Nor forward for the fray, because my voice 
 
 Was urgent in the council, that the men 
 
 Should climb the ships, and spread the sails, and seek 
 
 Greece, and the wives they love, and rest from war. 
 
 But mine is not the blame, although the grief 
 
 Is mine : for great Achilles in his tent 
 
 Sits wrathful, not forgetting, nor will heed 
 
 My words of friendship, nor my proffered gifts, 
 
 Rich recompense for all the wrong I did. 
 
 When, moved by follyj in the hot debate, 
 
 I angered him with bitter speech, and claimed 
 
 The maid, my right ; but anger is the curse 
 
 That Ate sets between the lips of men. 
 
 And he sits heedless, as a rock not heeds 
 
 The winds that blow around it, and endures 
 
 His comrades slain by Hector, and the ships 
 
 Fired, and himself the cause of all our woes. 
 
 But I have faced the battle, and have slain 
 
 The men who met me, and have spoiled their arms, 
 
 Triumphant, on the plains, and Hector fled 
 
VII, AGAMEMNON. 35 
 
 My coming, and my hands were dashed with blood, 
 And all my armour ; then Antenor's son 
 Coon, for anger at his brother slain, 
 Iphidamas, and aided by some god, 
 Thrust through my wrist, and anguish, such as comes 
 To women in their childbirth, bare me down. 
 So from the Scaean gate and Ilus' tomb 
 They brought me to the safety of the ships ; 
 And Hector lords it in the field, nor dare 
 Our bravest front him, mowing down the ranks, 
 As mowers in a meadow mow the swathe. 
 Glory to him, but shame to me and mine. 
 And now I greatly fear me Zeus hath willed 
 That either I should die here, nor return 
 To Clytemnestra, who in Argos sits, 
 Awaiting me, or else that we should flee. 
 Our purpose unaccomplished, and my name 
 Should serve as mockery to after men. 
 Rather than this, may wide earth yawn, and Zeus 
 Hurl my fire-shrivelled corpse to deepest Hell.' 
 
 Fa 
 
36 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 So Agamemnon communed, King of men, 
 Nor knew what doom the Fates assigned, who spin 
 The thread of life, to each man as they will. 
 To one man wealth, and joy of lengthened days, 
 Peace in his land, and children at his hearth ; 
 But grief to him, and sudden violence 
 Of bloodshed, and a felon murder, done 
 By hands that should be dearest, slaying him. 
 As a stalled ox is slain for some rich feast. 
 And all his comrades, such a sight, as moves 
 The sternest heart to pity; for the cups 
 Were filled, to pour due homage to the gods. 
 That gave them safe return : but that false wife, 
 Leagued with her paramour, Thyestes' son, 
 Had marked their shore-bound ships, and framed the guile. 
 And lured him to the banquet, and bade arm 
 The hirelings of the house. So by base swords 
 He died who wrought Troy's fall, nor saw again 
 Tyrinthian Argos, nor his fathers' throne. 
 
VIII. 
 
 ANDROMACHE. 
 
 In Mysia, where the deep-soiled Apian plain 
 Slopes to the golden waves of Rhyndacus, 
 O'er Thebe, underneath the wooded heights 
 Of Placus, reigned Eetion ; reigned in peace, 
 Till war broke on the land, and swept the king, 
 And the king's seven fair sons, and Thebe's self, 
 To buried ruin ; nor was aught to tell 
 The woe to after years, save those few elms, 
 Set by kind nymphs round good Eetion's tomb, 
 And one far-wedded daughter of his race, 
 Andromache, whom Hector, Priam's son, 
 Chiefest and best, had wooed and borne away 
 From death, to dree the doom the gods ordained. 
 There in beleaguered Troy her days went by, 
 
38 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Half happiness, half fear, because the name 
 Of Hector's wife was as a magic charm 
 To win the people's praise, who, when she passed. 
 Prayed blessings on her, and the love of men 
 Hung all around her, as on troubled nights 
 The pale gold circle hangs around the moon. 
 And made her as a goddess to their eyes. 
 But haunting fear was ever at her heart. 
 Unsleeping, as the surging of the sea 
 Sleeps not, but beats for ever in the caves. 
 That crumble from the cliffs ; so she, with dread 
 Of Hector's rashness and the hate of him. 
 Who in one day had butchered all her kin. 
 Wore out her crumbling courage ; and her fear 
 Was often as a goad, and drave her forth, 
 To climb the tower by the Scaean gate. 
 And scan with half-averted eyes the field. 
 There, with one maiden and her infant boy, 
 Scamandrius, whom the city-folk, for love 
 Of princely Hector, named Astyanax, 
 
VIII. ANDROMACHE. 39 
 
 The City-Prince, through the hot weary hours 
 
 Of fight she lingered, till the westering sun 
 
 Slanted the shoreward shadows of the ships, 
 
 And quenched the thirst of battle : then she rose, 
 
 And hope was with her for awhile, and sped 
 
 Her homeward steps, and cheered the welcome task 
 
 Of bath, and new-washed robe, and mingled cup. 
 
 And in her arms the darling of her soul 
 
 Lay cradled, gazing with wide happy eyes 
 
 On eyes tear-dimmed, and lips that strove to smile. 
 
 E'en while they spake her grief : — ' O me ! sweet boy, 
 
 Better that thou hadst ne'er been born, ne'er seen 
 
 The day, or else hadst been the baseborn child 
 
 Of hireling parents, tillers of the soil. 
 
 Who know no care, save that the furrows yield 
 
 Due produce in their season, and the skies 
 
 Let down the former and the latter rain: 
 
 But I have cares, that cease not night nor day. 
 
 Fearing the hour when sacred Ilium 
 
 Shall fall, and Hector shall be slain, and I, 
 
40 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 A widow, shall be slave to some Greek dame, 
 
 And see thee taken from thy mother's arms. 
 
 For either they will grudge thy tender life, 
 
 For hatred of thy father, and will hew 
 
 Thy soft, sweet limbs, and I shall not be nigh 
 
 To weep, as now I weep, foreseeing all, 
 
 And bear thee to the grave, and sate my soul 
 
 With grief among the women of my house : 
 
 Or, if thou 'scape thy murderers, thou wilt lead 
 
 A loveless life, not having any joy 
 
 Of parents, who might shelter thee from harm. 
 
 And happy children, who have homes, will scorn 
 
 With bitter words, and drive thee from their play; 
 
 Nor at the feast will place be found for thee, 
 
 But they will strike thee with their hands, and say, 
 
 ' Thy father sits not with us ; get thee hence.' 
 
 And, hungering, thou wilt seek the men who knew 
 
 My Hector, craving alms ; and one will give 
 
 Dry bread, and one a scanty cup of wine, 
 
 In grudging pity, moistening thy lips ; 
 
VIII. ANDROMACHE. 4 1 
 
 My boy, who from thy birth hast tasted naught 
 But daintiest cheer, marrow, and fat of lambs, 
 And lain upon thy father's knees, and slept. 
 Lapped in fond arms, nor hunger known, nor cold. 
 Such will be thine ; and mine, in far-off lands 
 To weave the woof, and ply the menial task, 
 And sing my soul away for grief, as sings 
 The bird whose nest a swooping kite hath found, 
 And snatched away her brood, and slain her mate; 
 Haply, to share the bed of some bought slave, 
 I, daughter of a king, and Hector's wife. *' "'• 
 But him the dogs will' tear aAd birds devour, ■ ••"• • 
 Naked, upon these sands ; becausfe the Greek, 
 Will know no mercy, nor restofre his corpse 
 For ruth nor ransom. Only will T pile, ■• " 
 Where'er I be, an empty mound of turf. 
 And feign the name of Hector; and the' Stream 
 Of Simois, and whatevelr wakes the thought 
 Of vanished things, and weep, until I die.' 
 
IX. 
 
 ASIUS. 
 
 When from the windy plain of Ilium, 
 Between the Xanthus and the seaward sands, 
 The Greeks within the fencework and the trench 
 By Hector's prowess and the will of Zeus 
 Were driven, as hunters drive the frightened deer, 
 Polydamas, Euphorbus' gallant son, 
 To Hector and the gathered chiefs of Troy 
 Spake wisest counsel, that no man should urge 
 His steeds across the causeways of the trench, 
 Set with sharp stakes, deep sunk, lest, if some hap 
 Should change the tide of victory, which flows 
 To either side in turn, as Zeus ordains, 
 Woe should befall their warriors, driven back 
 In formless rout along the narrow ways. 
 
IX. ASius, 43 
 
 Swiftly they did his bidding: each man leaped 
 Forth from his car, and bade his charioteer 
 Rein heedful back the steeds in ordered row. 
 These then were marshalled on the trench's brink, 
 Neighing their eagerness, as when a flock 
 Of seafowl takes the land, and storms impend. 
 And clangs its notes discordant ; but the men 
 In fivefold column crossed the trench, and made 
 Right for the fencework, eager for the fray : 
 Afoot, save Asius. Him, the giant son 
 Of Hyrtacus, his fiery steeds had brought 
 From Mysia, from Arisbe, and the stream 
 Of Sellois, exultant in his strength, 
 Scornful of warning words ; nor brooked he now 
 Polydamas' wise bidding, nor the cries 
 That called him back, but said within his heart. 
 That none would stay his coming, but would fly 
 Back to the ships, and smite with hasty oars 
 The homeward seas, and glory should be his. 
 Rash fool! nor knew he that his bones would lie, 
 
 G % 
 
44 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Whitening, upon the sands. So he d rave on, - 
 
 And found, where open gates had left a way, 
 
 If any of the fliers from the fight, - 
 
 Reaching the trench, might cross, and 'scape their doom. 
 
 Straight o'er the sounding causeway Asius lashed 
 
 His steeds, and passed the warders of the gate, 
 
 Huge Polypaetus, and Leontius huge, 
 
 Twin giants of the Lapithae ; but they, 
 
 Fired with hot anger at their post surpi-ised, 
 
 Withstood the followingcrowd, as two strong oaks 
 
 That face each other in some mountain-cleft, 
 
 Withstand the rush of water, and- the- winds. 
 
 That strive to tear them from their steadfast roots ; 
 
 So they withstood the Trojansj and anon 
 
 The din arose of shouts and splintered planks, 
 
 And shattered helmets, and the storm of stones. 
 
 Rained from above, as thick as Boreas rains 
 
 His storm of snowflakes from the swirling clouds. 
 
 And Asius turned, and saw, and spake aloud. 
 
 Smiting his hand in wrath upon his thigh : 
 
■IX. ■ ASius;." 45 
 
 'Fool, to believe the lying words of Zeus^ . 
 Who urged me. on, , andj spake within nijr.Jieart, 
 That none should stay my coming, but shouldj fly 
 Back to the f ships and gflory should be mine- 
 But these, as wasps, that jm a wayside mouqd 
 Have built their nest, vexed by some passer-by, 
 Cluster in hot* defence: around their home, -.ut 
 So these, I fear ^ me, think no thought of flight, 
 But rather to abide the; will of Zeus, 
 And face their foes, andr, fight unto the. death.' 
 
 Lo, as he spake,: Ictomeneiis strode; forth, 
 Cretan Idomeneus, i Deucalion's son,; a. . ■■■. 
 Dazzling in armour as the : nooaday blaze, 
 And all the blaze ©f triumph in his «yes, 
 Vaunting his vanquished slain, Othryoneus, 
 Who from Cabesus came to succour Troy, 
 And win a promised bride, but found no prize 
 Of peaceful wedlock, but defeat and death. 
 Him dead the Cretan chief strode forth to spoil. 
 But Asius brooked not the sad sight, and sprang 
 
46 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Down from his chariot, and his eager haste 
 
 Undid him, baring his defenceless throat, 
 
 Where, 'neath the manly growth that fringed his chin, 
 
 The close-set gorget and the helmet's clasp 
 
 Were sundered one short handbreadth each from each. 
 
 There, as he leaped, Idomeneus' straight spear 
 
 Met him, and drove right through, and Asius fell. 
 
 As falls a pine upon the mountain side. 
 
 When round its roots the woodman plies his axe. 
 
 To fell it for the mast of some great ship ; 
 
 So fell he, prone, and clutched the blood-soaked soil, 
 
 Beside his snorting steeds. These to the ships 
 
 Antilochus, Neleian Nestor's son. 
 
 Guided, a goodly prize ; but Asius lay, 
 
 Their master, trodden under foot of men, 
 
 An unregarded corpse, upon the sands, 
 
 And darkness fell, and covered all the plain. 
 
X. 
 
 HECTOR. 
 
 So both the armies slept, the Greeks secure 
 Within their trench, the Trojans on the plain. 
 But Hector slept not; him the manly j.oy 
 Stirred to the quick, of the great foeman's arms 
 Stripped from Patroclus, and a new-bom hope 
 Of Grecian galleys crowding sail to Greece 
 Woke in him, and of nine-year-trodden plains 
 Waving with corn crops, and the Scsean gate 
 Wide open, and wide open children's eyes, 
 Listening the wonders of a bygone war. 
 So his thoughts burnt within him, and he rose. 
 Restless, and stepped aloof, and, spear in hand. 
 Paced with quick steps the narrow sand that lay 
 Betwixt the bale-fires and the sentries' round. 
 
48 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 On one side were the fires, and sleeping men, 
 
 And yellow-flashing armour piled in heaps ; 
 
 On the other, some twelve fathoms' breadth apart, 
 
 The silent sentries, silvered by the moon. 
 
 Stole sidelong-looks ; for ever and anon 
 
 He paused, and poised, and drew hard breath, and drank 
 
 Imagined joy of battle ; and they knew 
 
 The man they loved, the hope of all they loved. 
 
 And whispered each to each, and shrank away. 
 
 So for some hour- he ranged, and. the moon sank, 
 
 And all the- watchmfen's helmets sank in:gloom 
 
 Of Ida's shadow, and the sinking fires -■ . ■ 
 
 Flashed fitful, and uneasy men were stiured, : 
 
 Dreaming the death^fights of the day to dawn. 
 
 And Hector's steps were, slackened in their speed. 
 
 And his heart sank within him, for the thoughts 
 
 Of young Astyanax, and the care-worn smile 
 
 Of sweet Andromache, and: his comrades' love,- 
 
 And the great trust of' Priam and of Troy, 
 
 Melted his mood. A ditn foreshadowing . ' 
 
X. HECTOR. ■ 49 
 
 Of what should be, and somewhat of a fear, 
 (Bethinking him of Pekus' mighty son, 
 And the fierce war-shout hurled across the trench), 
 Troubled his manhood ; and there came to him, 
 What comes to brave men after victory won, 
 As ague-chill to fevered limbs, a deep 
 Distrust of self, and questionings of the past ; 
 Whether the glory of Patroclus slain 
 Were rightly his, and if the words he spake 
 That evening in the Assembly were the fruits 
 Of well-considered wisdom, or of pride, 
 Prompted by Ate, who infatuates men. 
 So his soul communed with itself, and spake : 
 ' O me ! what darkness is about the world, 
 And the hard Gods hide things from sight of men ! 
 Why do they fight on this side and on that? 
 For surely one is right, and one is wrong, — 
 Ours right, the other wrong— I know not which ; 
 But this I know, that I have lived my life, 
 A noble one, and clean from every blame, 
 
 n 
 
50 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 And done the gods due homage, and have fought 
 
 With might, nor ever with a boastful tongue, 
 
 Nor ever done despite to fallen foe. 
 
 And now must I go forth to meet this man, 
 
 And either he will slay me, or be slain. 
 
 And, if he slay me, sorrow will befall 
 
 Our women, who lift daily hands to Zeus, 
 
 And all our innocent babes, who suck the breast. 
 
 And if I slay him, how shall I escape 
 
 Athene's wrath? Which of these things is just? 
 
 Of are we men but playthings of the hour. 
 
 The puppets of the Gods, who smile to see 
 
 Our chafes and frets? Best then to end the play. 
 
 For surely there is peace beyond the grave, 
 
 Or, if not peace, a knowledge of the right 
 
 And power to do. Then let what will be be.' 
 
 So Hector communed, and the sudden sun 
 Led up the day that was to see him die. 
 
XI. 
 PRIAM. 
 
 As when, within the courtyard of a king, 
 A stately oak, planted by former men, 
 Spreads wide its sacred shelter, till the day, , 
 When foemen burst the gates, and wanton hands 
 Scatter the moss-grown altar, and the axe i. 
 Lops the young branches, but the sturdier limbsi 
 Not yet are severed, and the giant trunk 
 Stands steadfast, scarred with wounds, so Priam stood. 
 Severed of all the sons, whom ten fierce years 
 Had sent to stand beside Persephone 
 In Hades. Now, new fear possessed his soul, 
 Searching, the crowd, nor could his eager gaze 
 Give to their, father's eye his two fair boys, 
 Lycaon, Polydore, his latest born, 
 
 H a 
 
52 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Who in their wanton mirth that morn had sought 
 
 Forbidden war, and found untimely death, 
 
 Nor e'er returned to Troy, for Peleus' son 
 
 Had slain them by Scamander, merciless 
 
 For dead Patroclus. Therefore were his eyes 
 
 Dimmed with vain straining, till a nearer shock 
 
 Froze them to sudden fixedness, for lo! 
 
 So far from forth the walls as a strong man 
 
 May hurl the quoit, contending in the games, 
 
 Achilles strode exultant, and his brass 
 
 Flamed all about him, as in autumn flames 
 
 The baleful dogstar, boding death to men. 
 
 His dreadful spear, huge as a weaver's beam, 
 
 Flashed in the sunshine, as a beacon shines 
 
 To warn some far-off city of its foe. 
 
 Or like the levinbolt of angry Zeus. 
 
 His eagle glance was quick to mark the coign. 
 
 Where Hector stood in shadow, pondering doubts 
 
 Of flight or battle, nor could brace his will 
 
 This way or that, for all his soul was dark, 
 
XI. PRIAM. 53 
 
 Eyeing swift death : to whom his aged sire, 
 
 Stretching vain hands of prayer, thus made his moan : 
 
 'O Hector, O my son, sole hope, sole stay 
 
 Of all within the walls who own me king. 
 
 Of me the king, and her, whose wrinkled breasts 
 
 Plead with me to the child whom once they fed, 
 
 Face not yon dreadful man, whose hand hath wrought 
 
 Death to thy kin, and some, for greed of gain. 
 
 Hath sold to other lands, and I am left. 
 
 Lone, save of thee; and thee his skill of fight, 
 
 Greater than thine, will master, and will give 
 
 Thy body to the vultures for their food. 
 
 Then will the hour be near, when sacred Troy 
 
 Shall fall in flames, and I shall die the death 
 
 Most shameful to an old man, for the dogs. 
 
 Whom mine own hands have fed, will rend my limbs, 
 
 Naked, before my door ; but thou, my son. 
 
 Pity thy sirq, ere pity be too late.' 
 
 So spake he, suppliant, and with either hand 
 Tore his white hair for grief; and Hector heard, 
 
54 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 But hearkened not, because high Zeus had willed 
 That he should die this day, and, dying, bring 
 Glory to Peleus's son, and bale to Troy. 
 
 So, when his doom was wrought, and fell revenge 
 Had spent itself, and Priam's grief was spent. 
 As the first flames of some rich funeral pyre 
 Are spent, but deep within the whitened ash 
 The red fire glows, and gathers, and devours, 
 So hoary Priam, strung to high resolve 
 By the hot fire within, and one who came 
 With bidding sent by pity fi'om above. 
 Queen of the rainbow, messenger of Zeus, 
 Bade yoke his Mysian mules, and heap the car 
 With choicest wealth of ransom, broideries, 
 Beakers of gold, and what of costliest 
 His coffers stored ; then, while all gathered Troy 
 Strove with loud tears to turn his steadfast mind, 
 Mounted his chariot, and at eve fared forth, 
 Untended, but Idaeus led the mules. 
 So, by kind Hermes' guidance to the trench, 
 
XL PRIAM. 55 
 
 And fencing of the ships, through moonless night, 
 They came, and Hermes closed the sentries' eyes, 
 And drew the bars, and to Achilles' tent 
 The silent wheels sped safely. Then the king 
 Fell prone, and clasped the conqueror's knees, and kissed 
 The hand that slew his Hector, and the place 
 Was filled with weeping, as a rainstorm fills' 
 A mountain channel, rolling down the rocks; 
 So they the tent, nor might a man discern 
 Foeman from friend, for sudden ruth had rolled 
 The blackness from Achilles' soul, and won 
 Grace for the suppliant, and the suppliant's prayer. 
 Then with his ransomed dead the king returned. 
 Grief in his heart, but grief with tempering joy. 
 Musing the pyre, and urn, and obsequies. 
 Nor heedful of the day, which soon should dawn. 
 When, slain by Pyrrhus' sword, himself should lie, 
 A severed trunk, and corpse without a name. 
 
XII. 
 ACHILLES. 
 
 The grey dawn glimmered, and the ebbing tide 
 Slipped from the naked sands about the ships, 
 And drained Scamander of its full-fed life. 
 But in the Grecian Camp was life and stir, 
 Neighing of full-fed steeds, and clank of arms. 
 And trumpet-calls and marshalling of men ; 
 For that this day the Master of the War, 
 Pelides' self, should take the field, and sweep 
 The Trojan battle from the plains of Troy. 
 So men, unknowing, spake ; and from his tents, 
 With godlike step and godlike in his face, 
 Achilles came. And all about his limbs 
 The wondrous armour which the Fire-God wrought, 
 Helmet and cuirass, cuisses, and the shield 
 
Xn. ACHILLES, 57 
 
 Fivefoldj and shapely greaves, that shot their light 
 Down on the naked marble of his feet. 
 His look was as of one who knew not care, 
 Nor memory of the past, nor things to come ; 
 Not the dead comrade, nor the fell revenge. 
 Nor shame of slaughtered warriors at the pyre. 
 Nor lust of ravished maid, nor sullen strife. 
 Nor the short span, and swiftly-severed thread, 
 But only present triumph. 
 
 To the front 
 He strode; and shading with an upraised hand 
 His level glance, gazed at the Trojan lines. 
 Which, thrice as far as bowmen shoot the bow. 
 Were clustering, thick as ants in harvest-time 
 Cluster around their harried nest, and brave 
 With weak defence the ruin that impends. 
 But One was in their van, who seemed in shape, 
 In grace, and nimbleness, and fatal gift 
 Of beauty, like the shepherd-prince who lured 
 The love of Spartan Helen from her lord. 
 
58 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 No man was near him, none seemed 'ware of him ; 
 
 Alone he stood, unhelmed, and round his head 
 
 The rising sun, smiting the rising mist. 
 
 Broke in a sudden glory; and behind, 
 
 High up, the towers of angry Pallas frowned. 
 
 No armour had he, save that in his hand 
 
 A golden bow was bended to the full ; 
 
 And as Achilles turned, with curving lip, 
 
 Contemptuous, to his men, an arrow sang. 
 
 And cleft the middle air, and dipped, and plunged 
 
 Full on the naked marble of his foot. 
 
 Through high-arched instep, ankle, and the strings 
 
 That bind the straining heel, it sped, and nailed 
 
 The wolf-skin sandal to the crimson sand. 
 
 Slow on one knee he sank, his strong, right hand 
 
 Staying his fall, and watched with steady eye 
 
 The full life draining from the wound, and spake, — 
 
 ' Mother, thy word was true. The end is come.' 
 
 Nor ever spake again. 
 
XII. ACHILLES. 59 
 
 They bore him back. 
 And all the host fell back ; and in the tents, 
 In place of wine, and mirth, and revelry. 
 Was woe of women, and dismay of men. 
 
 I a 
 
XIII. 
 
 CORCEBUS. 
 
 Of all who, in her hour of need, to Troy 
 
 Came from far lands to fight against her foes, 
 
 Coroebus was the youngest. Him nor greed 
 
 Of Priam's treasure drew, nor lust of war. 
 
 And what war brings, armour, and steeds, and slaves, 
 
 Nor Asia herded by a common dread. 
 
 But love of young Cassandra, fairest maid 
 
 And doomed to foulest death of all in Troy. 
 
 In Priam's halls, when peace was in the land, 
 
 Often had boy and girl, in childish sport, 
 
 Pledged each to other troth, the while their sires, 
 
 Mygdon and Priam, smiled a grave assent. 
 
 Then severance, and the Sun-god's fatal love. 
 
 And the curse came, which ever in some form 
 
XIII. CORCEBUS. 6 1 
 
 Cometh to mortals whom the Immortals love ; 
 To her, a curse of wisdom scorned of men, 
 And unregarded foresight. 
 
 Long the youth. 
 Not knowing what had been, and what should be. 
 Waited the ebbing of the tide of war, 
 That beat on Troy, and passion fired his soul, 
 To free his bride, and win himself a name. 
 But all too late it seemed, for now the Greeks 
 Had fled their fruitless task, and every gate 
 Was open, and each heart in Troy was glad ; 
 Save one, whose bitter boding not the sight 
 Of the gay bridegroom, bright with hope and love, 
 Could quicken into gladness. Sad she sate. 
 Eyeing the future, as some shrinking dove 
 Eyes the fast-closing fowler's net, nor dreams 
 Of flight, nor succour, but awaits its doom. 
 So she. But young Corcebus, half in joy. 
 Half vexed that no great deed remained to do. 
 Chid with fond fire, and words of loving scorn ; 
 
62 IDYLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 ' Sweetest and best, after long lapse of years 
 
 Restored to freedom, happiness, and me, 
 
 Canst thou not, dear one, spare one glance, one smile 
 
 Of welcome to thy playmate ? Whence thy gloom, 
 
 Strange in its grief, when all around is joy? 
 
 Frighted with maiden's fears? Nay, sure, my hand 
 
 Were strong to save thee from a thousand Greeks, 
 
 Yea, from grim Agamemnon's self, — why shrink. 
 
 Poor paling sweetheart, at Atrides' name? 
 
 By the bright Sun-god, whom ye Trojans hail 
 
 Author of Troy, and guardian of its weal, 
 
 Rare were the sport, to chase the flying King, 
 
 And from Mycenae and his loving arms 
 
 Drag his fond Clytemnestra for thy slave, — 
 
 Nay, now, what need, with that sweet childish fear, 
 
 To shudder ? War is past, and war's alarm ; 
 
 And, if I leave thee now, 'tis but to aid 
 
 The housing of yon safeguard of our peace, 
 
 The votive monster of the witless Greeks ; 
 
 And with to-morrow's dawn all Troy shall flame 
 
XIII. CORCEBUS. 63 
 
 With happy bridal torches, and the Gods 
 Shall bless our union.' 
 
 So Coroebus spake, 
 And went his way, as some gay gilded bark 
 Goes gallant forth across a summer sea, 
 And brief farewells are waved by careless hands. 
 That never come again, for o'er them sweeps 
 The sea, and fishes fatten on their flesh. 
 So never did Coroebus come again, 
 But with the dawn, and Troy's red agonyj 
 Sank in the sea of spears ; nor could his hands 
 Avail to save, only his filming eyes 
 Saw from afar a white tear-dabbled face. 
 And slender thong-bound wrists, — and kindly death 
 Forebade to know the sequel of her doom. 
 
XIV. 
 AENEAS. 
 
 Zeleia, Lectum, spurs of Gargarus, 
 Shoot out their pine-clothed ridges to the north 
 Of Ida, rolling to the western sea, 
 And waves that laugh on Lemnos. In between 
 There lies an emerald meadow, sloping down 
 From caverned grottoes such as Proteus loves, 
 A thousand paces' breadth, this way and that. 
 To the white margent where the sea-mews shriek. 
 Here, while the heat yet quivered o'er the place 
 Which once was Troy, a battered band of men, 
 Stained with the stains of toil, and fight, and fire, 
 Came wearily, and guarded in their midst 
 The piteous relics of their vanished homes ; 
 Motherless children, childless mothers, men 
 
XIV. AENEAS. 65 
 
 Whose manhood age had quenched, and lifeless things, 
 
 Vessels and raiment, and the secret sheen 
 
 Of jewels, and whate'er in yon dark hour 
 
 Each perilled life held dearest, nor was lack 
 
 Of pious reverence for the household gods. 
 
 Whose power the mightier power of Zeus had foiled. 
 
 Chiefest of all, in birth, in mieii, in arms, 
 .(Eneas, goddess-born, with either hand 
 Guided the feeble steps of sire and son, 
 Troy's past and future. Stern his brow, and sad 
 With thoughts of lost Creusa, Priam lost. 
 And lost the joy of battle with his peers. 
 Yet somewhat of a light was in his eye. 
 And brave resolve, and, as the coming dawn 
 Glimmers behind the blackness of the night, 
 So through the settled sorrow of his gaze 
 His steadfast purpose shone. 
 
 Around him thick 
 Gathered the crowd, as shipwrecked mariners 
 Gather around the man who, all night long; 
 
 K 
 
66 lUVLLS OF ILIUM. 
 
 Through sea, and surge, and surf, has held the helm, 
 
 Undaunted, and, amid the crash of oars 
 
 And parting planks, has cheered their sinking hearts 
 
 To safety. So Aeneas stood, and spake: 
 
 ' Comrades, brave hearts, ye who have dared to live 
 
 When Priam, Pergamus, and hope are dead. 
 
 And all the sweet of life is changed to sour, 
 
 Hear me, and mark the words that I shall say. 
 
 For not without the guidance of the Gods 
 
 Reach we the shelter of these hills, the home 
 
 Of Dardanus, and cradle of our race. 
 
 Yea, and when great Poseidon came between, 
 
 And snatched me from Achilles and from death, 
 
 Great words of promise sounded in mine ears, 
 
 That Pergamus and hope should live again ; 
 
 And, if not Priam, yet a greater name 
 
 Of me, and kings that shall be born from me, 
 
 Sons of my sons, an empire without end. 
 
 And if some after bard shall sing the deeds 
 
 Of Hector, and the great ones that are gone, 
 
XIV. AENEAS. 67 
 
 I also in the mouths of men shall live, 
 Not unremembered, and the tale of Troy 
 Shall be but preface to a nobler tale, 
 Named from Aeneas, and Aeneas' crew. 
 Hear, then, this counsel, which my wiser sire, 
 Known to you all as little less than god. 
 Confirms. Build we, beneath these sheltering hills, 
 Stout ships, to bear us to our Western home, 
 The land of promise, which the dim presage 
 Of oracles, and voice of all the Gods, 
 Hath granted to our destinies, and named 
 Hesperia, Heaven-pledged haven of our rest. 
 These kindly grots, meanwhile, a safer Troy, 
 Shall house our weakness ; and yon piny wood. 
 For many an age the Mighty Mother's haunt, 
 Lending its sacred timbers to our need. 
 Shall hallow all our voyage by her grace, 
 And speed us to our goal. Only be men ; 
 After this sunset of your fortunes, face 
 A night of labour, and the morrow's sun 
 
 K % 
 
68 IDYLLS OF ILIUM 
 
 Shall rise, and lighten with a wider flame 
 All after-time, nor ever set again.' 
 
 So spake Aeneas, and the valley rang 
 With loud assent ; and all that winter through 
 Rang Ida's ranges with the fall of trees, 
 And sound of axe and hammer, and the toil 
 Of men, the destined Masters of mankind. 
 And with the spring they' spread their sails, and sought 
 Hesperia, Heaven-pledged haven of their rest. 
 
IV Idylls of Israel. 
 
I. 
 
 MIRIAM. 
 
 This is the cry of Miriam in her tent, 
 In Hazeroth, shut out from men, because 
 God's wrath was on her, and white leprosy, 
 Eating her flesh, for that her heart was stirred 
 By evil passion to dispute the might 
 Of Moses, and Jehovah's high behest. 
 
 ' Seven suns have sunk and risen since the curse, 
 Seven only days ! The weeks will make the months, 
 The months the years, the years will make my life, 
 A life of days, and weeks, and months, and years ! 
 How shall I live, O God, a life of years, 
 Long years ? Yet all too short to cleanse my soul ; 
 As never will my comeliness be cleansed 
 Of this foul loathsomeness, which makes my flesh, 
 
72 IDYLLS OF ISRAEL. 
 
 As some dead child, whose flesh is half consumed, 
 
 Ere it be born ; so loathsome is the sin 
 
 That crusts my soul. Well did they name my name 
 
 ' Miriam,' ' rebellion ' ; yet in dreams I thought. 
 
 That in my name, and in the after time. 
 
 All nations should be blessed. Rebellion, aye! 
 
 Rebel to high Jehovah, I, the one 
 
 Chosen to be His prophetess, to hold 
 
 Communion with Him, and to hear His voice 
 
 In visions and dark speeches of the night. 
 
 Once only in the day, yon awful day. 
 
 When the Voice summoned, and the judgement fell ; 
 
 Judgement of mercy, smiting me alone, 
 
 Not Aaron, not my brother, ruled by me 
 
 To join my guilt, but not my punishment. 
 
 I thank Thee, God, if such as I may thank, 
 
 For this Thy justice ; also that Thy hand. 
 
 Stretched out in mercy, hath not struck me down 
 
 To Sheol, to the pit, but gives me life. 
 
 And time, and tears, to wash away my sin. 
 
MIRIAM. 73 
 
 Sin against Thee, and 'gainst Thy chosen saint, 
 My brother, the Deliverer, whom I saved 
 From out the rushes, that his rod should smite ■ 
 The king who sought to slay him, and the land, 
 With tenfold plague, and bring the people forth, 
 And bury Egypt in the closing seas. 
 For him I struck the timbrel, led the dance. 
 And sang the song of triumph ; for I knew 
 His power the power of Him, who spake with him 
 As friend with friend, seeing Him face to face, 
 In such wise as a man may see and live. 
 Yet for my pride and woman's jealousy. 
 Because he took a Cushite maid to wife, 
 I dared to vex his meekness, and to boast 
 My equal birth, — ah me! my sin, my sin! — 
 And lured our brother, who so late upheld 
 His arm 'gainst Amalek in Rephidim, 
 To stand with me. My punishment was swift, 
 My shame was on me, ere the Voice had ceased ; 
 Yet, in mine utmost agony, I heard 
 
 L 
 
74 IDYLLS OF ISRAEL. 
 
 His prayer for mercy ; hear his prayer, O God, 
 Hear him, I pray Thee, lest his soul be grieved 
 For trouble wrought, to justify his name, 
 On one he loved so well ; but as for me, 
 Do with Thine handmaid even as Thou wilt.' 
 So Miriam, prostrate; and Jehovah heard, 
 Who loveth mercy, and desireth not 
 The sinner's death, repentant of his sin. 
 Therefore He heard and pardoned ; and her flesh 
 Was clean, as of a child, whose flesh is sweet, 
 As budding roses in the front of spring; 
 And all her sin was clean, and she went forth, 
 Glad, as of old ; and Israel, who had mourned 
 All those seven days, was glad, and blessed the Lord. 
 
II. 
 
 RAHAB. 
 
 Beneath the cave-worn cliffs that skirt the land 
 Of Promise, fronting Moab, and the plain 
 Of Jordan's forest, once stood Jericho, 
 City of palm-trees, fenced about with walls ; 
 And in the walls a house, hard by the gate 
 That opened eastward, facing Jordan's fords, 
 And in the house dwelt Rahab. Her in youth 
 Tutored to impious Asherah's lewd rites, 
 And devil-worship of the groves, now shame. 
 And yearning impulse, and the things she heard, 
 Had wrought to purer life, and newborn faith. 
 
 For men who came and went had told strange words 
 Of hosts that sprang from Sinai's barren peak, 
 Full armed, and swept the land, as locusts sweep 
 Leafage, and all the labours of the year ; 
 How seas beneath their feet had dried, and fires 
 
76 IDYLLS OF ISRAEL. 
 
 Guarded and led them on their conquering way: 
 And tales of vanquished Sihon, and the might 
 Of Basan broken, till the hearers' hearts 
 Melted with fear. But more than fear possessed 
 The heart of listening Rahab ; grace to her, 
 For her much love, and pardon of her sin. 
 And high assurance of the truth, was given. 
 Therefore her thought was swift, as swift her hands 
 To spin the flax, her daily task, and steep 
 The crimson thread for weaving of the robes. 
 That decked the idol-worship of the land : 
 And in her deepest heart a prayer uprose. 
 If but this loathed bondage of her life 
 Might serve some holier service, and redeem 
 Her harlot thraldom, and the souls she loved. 
 The sun was low upon the western heights. 
 And two worn travellers, strange in garb and speech, 
 Of youthful feature, but by grave resolve 
 Set to unwonted sternness, through the gate 
 Entering, with small delay of question, found 
 
11, RAHAB. 77 
 
 The friendly shelter. But keen eyes had marked 
 The strangers' coming, and quick fear sped far 
 The tidings. So, when evening changed to night, 
 Came bidding from the king, to summon forth 
 The spies, who came to search the land, and mark 
 Its fear. But Rahab's prophet-heart foreknew 
 The heralds of deliverance, and the hour 
 Come for her service, and her prayer vouchsafed. 
 Therefore her eager hands were quick to pile 
 The shelter of tall flax-stems, and her tongue 
 Fi-amed ready falsehood, that the men had fared 
 Forth from the street, ere shutting of the gates ; 
 And hot pursuit drew off the hurrying throng. 
 And night once more was still. Then from the roof 
 Brought she her rescued, and from grateful hearts 
 Won for herself, and for her father's house. 
 Full pledge of safety, when the doom should fall 
 And whelm the city with the coming curse. 
 So through the midnight window in the wall, 
 As he of Tarsus in the after time, 
 
78 IDYLLS OF ISRAEL. 
 
 Lowered, they 'scaped their foes, and lurked unseen 
 Three days within the hollows of the hills, 
 Then sought the fords of Jordan, and were safe. 
 
 But scarce three farther days were spent, and lo! 
 The sound of horns, and solemn pomp of priests, 
 And silent marshalled tread of armed hosts; 
 Day after day the solemn pomp of priests, 
 And sound of horns, and silent marshalled tread. 
 Compassed the city, till the seventh day came, 
 And after sevenfold compass rose the shout. 
 And the walls fell. 
 
 Only a crimson thread 
 Marked the remembered window, and the house 
 Of Rahab, sheltering her gathered kin. 
 Stood, amid ruin. Thus the harlot won 
 A name to last for ever, and a place 
 In that high list of Mothers, from whom sprang 
 The One Deliverer, He, whose crimson tide 
 To publicans and harlots brought full pledge 
 Of ransom, and the walls of sin laid low. 
 
III. 
 
 JAEL. 
 
 Jael, the wife of Kenite Heber, stood 
 
 Between the caverned blackness of the tent, 
 
 And the last rays of sunset, streaming up 
 
 From Asher's olive-yards, and sea-breached plain. 
 
 To Kedesh' mountain fastness, and the oaks 
 
 That shadowed Zaanaim. All alone 
 
 She stood, white-robed, black-browed, in form as lithe. 
 
 As the lithe roe that browsed the neighbouring heights ; 
 
 And, listless leaning on the rope that hung 
 
 Betwixt the loosened tent-nail and the tent, 
 
 Dreamed of the bygone days, when Heber's kin 
 
 Dwelt in fast friendship with the chosen race, 
 
 And fought for them, and conquered ; and he wooed 
 
 A daughter of their blood to be his bride : 
 
 But when the conquest of the land was done. 
 
8o IDYLLS OF ISRAEL. 
 
 And laws and fenced cities shut them in, 
 Their desert freedom stirred them, and they fled 
 The haunts of men, and Joshua's iron rule. 
 And dwelt in Southern Arad. Thence her lord. 
 Restless for love of solitude, removed 
 To the high peaks of Napthali, which front 
 And rival Lebanon. There a league he made 
 With him of Hazor, that his flocks might feed 
 Safe around Merom's water, and his tents, 
 And all the women in his tents, be safe. 
 
 The peaceful days had loitered into years, 
 And now the clouds had gathered, and for peace 
 Was storm of war, and trouble in the land. 
 And trouble was on Jael's thoughts and brow ; 
 For not seven days had gone, since she had seen. 
 Standing where now she stood, the long array 
 Of Jabin's iron chariots, file on file. 
 Hundred on hundred, countless Canaan's host, 
 Streaming from Harosheth adown the pass, 
 Where Kishon to Megiddo cleaves its way ; 
 
III. JAEL. 8 
 
 And the great captain of the host, in sheen 
 Of gold and purple, Sisera, on his car 
 Exultant ; and he waved a far-off hand 
 Of mocking triumph, for he rode to crush 
 The rebel swarm of slaves, who clustered round 
 High Tabor, as an angry swarm of bees 
 Cluster their queen. And at the thought, a light 
 Of sudden gladness flashed in Jael's eyes, 
 Remembering her comrade of past years, 
 Deborah, and the sweet converse they held, 
 Of all the glories of the chosen seed, 
 And Sinai's wondrous wandering, and the might 
 Of high Jehovah, and the saint who died 
 On Nebo, and the prophetess who sang 
 The wall of waters, and the rescued host. 
 And bold assurance of the present strife 
 Vifa.s hot witKin her heart, remembering these, 
 And the Right Hand stretched out in wrath, and men 
 His holy instruments : and high emprise 
 Throbbed all her fevered pulses with the joy, 
 
 M 
 
82 IDYLLS OF LSRAEL 
 
 That knows itself foredoomed to some great deed, 
 And sacred with a purpose not its own. 
 Her gathered brow was bent, her outstretched hand 
 Unconscious grasped the ready staff, which leaned 
 Against the tent-rope, and her eager gaze 
 Scanned the red glory of the sinking sun. 
 
 Lo, in its midst a sudden shape, that formed, 
 Uprising slowly, to a toil-worn man, 
 Painfully halting, and his broken spear 
 Scarce stayed his weariness, and Jael knew 
 The man who passed erewhile, and Canaan's host 
 Heaven-shattered, and the thing she was to do. 
 
 Therefore her step was swift, and voice was tuned 
 To guile of courteous friendship, nor refused 
 Her choicest store, nor couch, nor needful guard ; 
 Till the doomed foe of Heaven, suspicion lulled, 
 Nor knowing that the sentence was gone forth. 
 Sank to a sleep that waked not ; for the nail, 
 And hammer, and a woman's feeble hand, 
 Wrought the Lord's vengeance ; and the land had rest. 
 
IV. 
 DEBORAH. 
 
 'Ye Kings give heed, ye iPrinces gather round, 
 
 No meaner hearing fits the theme I sing. 
 
 The leading of the leaders, and the men 
 
 Who followed gladly. To the Lord I sing. 
 
 The Lord Jehovah, God of Israel : 
 
 Who in the days of old went forth from Seir, 
 
 Leading His host from Edom, and the heavens 
 
 Thundered, Hor trembled, and the rainstorms burst ; 
 
 The mountains melted before Sinai's God, 
 
 Who came in victory. 
 
 'Yet in after days 
 When Shamgar's oxgoad and the Kenites smote 
 Philistia, through the promised land for peace 
 Was solitude, for plenty dearth. None trode 
 
 M 2 
 
84 IDYLLS OF ISRAEL. 
 
 The highways, nor was any armed man 
 In Israel's thousands, not a shield nor spear 
 To face the foe, but curse of alien gods. 
 And war in all the gates. 
 
 'Then I arose, 
 Deborah, whom the Lord ordained to be 
 Mother of Israel. Now bear witness all, 
 Who gave yourselves to do His righteous will, 
 Princes and Judges of the land, and ye, 
 Who tread the ways in peace, and gather round 
 The peaceful wells, and in the opened gates 
 Linger secure, what wonders He hath wrought. 
 
 'Swift was the summons, "Wake, DebDrah, wake, 
 Rouse thee, Abinoam's son, and captive lead 
 Thy captors." 
 
 'At our bidding came the Chiefs, 
 With willing homage to the chosen twain ; 
 Ephraim from Amalek, Benjamin, Issachar, 
 Machir, Zebulon's captains, staff in hand, 
 Naphtali ; footmen all, to set their lives 
 
IV. DEBORAH. 85 
 
 'Gainst Jabin's chariots. 
 
 ' In th^t glorious day, 
 Why didst thou waver, Reuben, for the love 
 Of flocks and pelf.? Why, Gilead, fear to cross 
 Thy sheltering Jordan ? Dan, why seek thy ships ? 
 Asher, the safeguard of thy sea-breached shores? 
 
 ' In Taanach by Megiddo was the fight. 
 No thought of flight or ransom; Canaan's kings 
 Fought against heaven : the heaven-sent thunders fought 
 'Gainst Sisera's host; and ancient Kishon rose. 
 And swept his chariots with their maddened steeds 
 Adown its torrents. Praise the Lord, my soul, 
 Deborah's foot hath trampled Razor's strength. 
 
 'But upon Meroz be Jehovah's curse, 
 His bitter curse on Meroz and its men, 
 Because they came not to Jehovah's help, 
 Jehovah's help against his mighty foe. 
 Blessed be Jael, Kenite Heber's wife, 
 Blessed above all women of the tent! 
 He asked wa;ter, and she gave him milk. 
 
86 IDYLLS OF ISRAEL. 
 
 She brought the curdled milk in lordly dish : 
 
 Then to the tent-nail set she her left hand, 
 
 Her right hand to the hammer, and smote through 
 
 His head and temples. At her feet he lay. 
 
 And where he lay, he writhed, and fell down dead. 
 
 ' Forth from her lattice Sisera's mother gazed : 
 " Why .comes he not ? Why do his chariot wheels 
 Tarry so long?" Her ladies answered her. 
 Yea, she returned answer to herself; 
 " Have they not lingered, busy with the spoil 
 Of captive maidens, each to each his share ; 
 To Sisera a prey qf rich-dyed robes. 
 Of party-coloured robes of broidery. 
 Meet to adorn the slave-girls of his choice." 
 
 ' So perish all thine enemies, O Lord. 
 But they, who love Thee, as the sun be strong, 
 Strong as the sun, rejoicing in his might.' 
 
Ill Tyrants of Syracuse. 
 
I. 
 
 DION. 
 
 ' Equality of men,' — ' Law's majesty,' — 
 
 ' Virtue its own reward,' — in very sooth 
 
 Small other found I, banished" from my home 
 
 For Virtue's sake ; — ' the Individual 
 
 Merged in the State,' — 'the One subordinate 
 
 To All,' — aye, to thy cost thou found'st it so. 
 
 Sold in Aegina at the tyrant's word ! 
 
 'Knowledge is Power,' — Whose the Knowledge then? 
 
 And whose the Power ? Yet the dream was sweet ; 
 
 And sweet the honey of the Master's words, 
 
 Filling the ordered beauty of the hive, 
 
 The fairy framework of the State to be. 
 
 Thine was a noble soul, Plato ! and mine 
 Nobler than now, when, in those happy days. 
 
 N 
 
90 TYRANTS OF SYRACUSE. 
 
 It bowed itself to learn of thee, and fed 
 
 From the stored treasures of thy wisdom's wealth. 
 
 Nobler than now ? Why nobler ? Am I not 
 
 Noblest in Syracuse, in Sicily, 
 
 Whom all men envy? Yet, the dream was sweet. 
 
 Yea, sweet the flowers too, the daffodils, 
 
 Down by Anapus, where they load the air 
 
 With fragrance of their honey, and the bees. 
 
 Delighted, sip ; and sun, and earth, and air. 
 
 And their lush growth of leaves, are free, — and then. 
 
 Comes the brute tread of man, — and so they end. 
 
 There was the error ! In the equal Law 
 
 Of all the Beautiful, and all the Good, 
 
 No count of Man! In Virtue's visioned realm 
 
 No place for subject Vice! In the fair field 
 
 Of Knowledge, budding, blossoming, no room - 
 
 For iron-sandalled Ignorance to tread ! 
 
 ' All men alike, all free,' — aye in some land, 
 
 Some no-land, where the gods are shamed to come, 
 
 Some Academe where none but Platos dwell. 
 
I. DION. 9 1 
 
 Not here on earth, not here in Syracuse ! 
 ' Philosophy co-ordinate with Power ' : — 
 It seemed so grand, so simple ; all my soul 
 Burned with desire to do the noble deed, 
 To clothe the teacher's thought with shape, that men 
 Might see and know, and with one voice proclaim 
 The secret of their happiness confessed, 
 The truth revealed that should redeem the world ! 
 I won the Master hither, won the boy, 
 Yon Dionysius, who in Locri drowns 
 His exile days in drunkenness and blood. 
 Won him to hearken to the stern rebuke. 
 The magic charm, the sweet persuasiveness. 
 The mystic truth that should have power to raise 
 And purify the vilest. 
 
 Fool, to match 
 A Plato with heaven's fire upon his lips. 
 Against Philistus with one night's carouse! 
 Right guerdon had I of my work! lost home, 
 Lost lands, wife, child, — my bright boy done to death 
 
92 TYRANTS OF SYRACUSE. 
 
 By hellish instigation, — worse than death, 
 
 His manhood brutalised, his soul dragged down 
 
 To their own swinish level : — then I learnt 
 
 The lesson Plato missed, that in the face 
 
 Of Power the wisest are as impotent 
 
 As wise Ulysses in the Cyclops' clutch, 
 
 Ere wisdom made him powerless. There the truth ; 
 
 Power first, the sceptre first ; then, like a queen 
 
 That tempers the stern judgments of her lord 
 
 By sweet entreaty, comes Philosophy, 
 
 To counsel, strengthen, soften, not to rule. 
 
 I proved it so. I drove the drunken fool 
 Forth from his island fastness, cleansed the land 
 Of all the traitor crew, Theodotes, 
 Philistus, Heracleides, Nypsius, 
 Bade carnage cease, and taught the rabble rout 
 To bow before my breath, as the field bows 
 Before the healthful, life-restoring wind ; 
 Yea, mine the power of the wind, to bend. 
 To break, to give new life. The Law, — the State,- 
 
I. DION. 93 
 
 What is the State, but he who leads, who guides? 
 
 The brute know-nothing herd, what part have they 
 
 Of Wisdom ? Plato, canst thou answer that ? 
 
 Therefore of Power? I am the Power, and I 
 
 The Wisdom and the Law. The sage of old, 
 
 Lycurgus, he of Sparta, brooked no peer. 
 
 But set his yoke about the people's neck, 
 
 And bowed them to his purpose. As will I. 
 
 I trusted once their gratitude, — his word 
 
 Was ever ' trust them,' — and my fit reward 
 
 Was second exile, till the cowards found 
 
 Need of my sword. No trust for me henceforth ! 
 
 Only upon CalHppus will I lean, 
 
 My one proved friend, the comrade of my wars, 
 
 My fellow-learner of the Master's lore, 
 
 Who knows the inmost chambers of my heart, 
 
 Him only will I trust, but none beside. 
 
II. 
 
 DIONYSIUS THE YOUNGER. 
 
 On the high marble round Peirene's lake, 
 
 Where Acrocorinth caught the far-off hum 
 
 Of peopled mart, and plash of either sea, 
 
 Or 'mid Craneium's sunshine luxury. 
 
 Or oftenest in Lechceum's viler haunts, 
 
 Jibing with courtezans, to parching lips 
 
 Raising the earthen jug with hands, whose gems 
 
 Flashed at their trembling, once the mightiest lord, 
 
 Whom Greece had feared, the man whose frown was death, 
 
 Who made and unmade, Dionysius, lay 
 
 The wonder and the jest of passers by. 
 
 Of kingly feature, though by passion marred, 
 Of dignified discourse, which brake half-way 
 In slavish jest, as stately bust which ends 
 
II. DIONYSIUS THE YOUNGER. 95 
 
 In loathly fish, of ready tongue, which met 
 Scoff with more bitter scoff, rude insolence 
 With scornful pride, the fallen tyrant lay, 
 Eating his angry heart with memories 
 Of vanished days, and pondering vain regrets. 
 
 Ofttimes his musings shaped themselves to words 
 Of muttered fury : ' All I held most dear. 
 Power, homage, ease, the mastery of men, 
 And women's willing arms, for ever gone ! 
 Whose fault ? Not mine : I strove, as best I might, 
 To grasp the secret of a firm-set throne. 
 Those " chains of adamant," my father's boast, 
 Were fear, and force, and multitude of ships, 
 And myriad guardance of barbarians: 
 I strained them to their utmost, and they brake, 
 As silken threads that wantons weave to bind 
 Some wine-drowned sleeper. Plato, thou saidst well ; — 
 Ha, friend ! thou catchest Plato's name ; " What gain 
 Had I of Plato?" Well, he taught me this: 
 Of all the ills that compass Tyranny, 
 
g6 TYRANTS OF SYRACUSE. 
 
 None is so great, as that it hears no truth 
 From foul-mouthed slaves. Art answered .' 
 
 Where was I, 
 When yon rude knave brake on me? Plato's words .^ 
 " Thy father's chains were naught ; the chains that bind 
 Are zeal, goodwill, and gratitude.' Yea, so: 
 Showed I no zeal, when, lavishing my gold 
 To buy his power, — for the man had power, — 
 I brooked his cold reproof, " Thou hast nor part 
 Nor lot with us, until thine heart be right," 
 And set myself to school, to learn his arts, 
 The mystic triangle, the three in one, 
 The perfect square within the square, — I know 
 Their jargon well, — and all the harmonies. 
 Their Dorian, Phrygian, Lydian tetrachords : — 
 That note was discord, girl; give me the lyre; 
 So, dost thou mark it? No, thy greedy eyes 
 Are bent upon the bracelet. Take it. Hence, 
 And learn thy lesson better. ' 
 
 All was vain. 
 
II. DIONYSIUS THE YOUNGER. 97 
 
 My prating uncle, — kind Callippus' sword 
 
 Rid me of him, and gave me back my throne, — 
 
 Dion, the supercilious pedagogue, 
 
 Was all to him. Nothing but Dion's saws, 
 
 Dion's example^ Dion's polity, 
 
 Till, in mere weariness of Dion's name, 
 
 I drave him from the island. None the more 
 
 Was Plato mine ; no flattery, no device, 
 
 Wine, women, broidered purple, delicate cates, 
 
 Could charm him to my love. Cold to the last. 
 
 Cold as the hemlock-draught his master earned. 
 
 His parting words were sneer : " The gods forefend 
 
 Such lack of themes, that we in Academe 
 
 Should talk of thee." 
 
 Then came Timoleon, 
 Yon mad Corinthian, whom the gods inspired 
 To slay his brother, — I but drugged the cup. 
 To calm the old man's sleep, — and sent me here, 
 A wonder to his gaping fellow-fools. 
 Who deem me harmless, that I play the fool, 
 
 O 
 
98 TYRANTS OF SYRACUSE. 
 
 And blind them with their own conceit, and bide 
 One other turn of fortune. 
 
 Well met, friend ! 
 See, the girls beckon us 'neath yonder shade, 
 Where true Catanian liquor crowns the bowl ; — 
 Your sand breeds sorry vintage; — shall we go?' 
 
III. 
 
 TIMOLEON. 
 
 But two short summers, since that April sun 
 
 Lifted the mist from off Crimessus' plain, 
 
 Lifted the cloud from off my darkened life, 
 
 Lifted the blackness of a mother's curse. 
 
 The crimson horror of a brother's blood, 
 
 Lifted it all, and showed my straining eyes 
 
 The glory of a nation's freedom, won 
 
 By righteous war, the glory of a name 
 
 Freed from the taint, that ever night and day 
 
 Hung round me like the loathed Helorus' plague : 
 
 But two short summers since, and now blind, blind! 
 
 O Gods ! O Goddess, who hast ruled my life, 
 
 Whose shrine in yonder garden tells the tale 
 
 Of all my sorrows and of all my joy. 
 
lOO TYRANTS OF SYRACUSE. 
 
 ' First Impulse,' by the undiscerning herd 
 Called ' Fortune,' — nay, no Fortune, but Thy voice. 
 Which bade me urge him with that last appeal. 
 And armed, — ah, Gods ! I drew my robe across 
 To hide it from my eyes, — and now, blind, blind ! 
 I loved him, saved him, slew him : noblest deed, 
 Or the most cursed that the world has seen. 
 Which of the two ? 
 
 For twenty maddened years 
 No answer came, or else my ears were shut, 
 For anguish of my soul, till in that cry, 
 ' Timoleon for Syracuse,' I heard, 
 Surely I heard Thy voice, and life was waked. 
 And newborn hope, and ever since that day 
 Thy guidance has been with me, to the eyes 
 Of all men manifest, by flood and field. 
 In peace and war, what time the holy flame 
 Guided my path across the favouring seas ; 
 What time beneath the Sacred City's walls 
 I smote with sudden slaughter, and the God 
 
III. TIMOLEON. lOI 
 
 Came forth to welcome me ; what time I razed 
 
 The despot's island stronghold, to upbuild 
 
 A home for Justice, and my trireme bore 
 
 The self-convicted fool to be a show 
 
 For Corinth, and the glory of my name. 
 
 And doom of tyranny; all this was Thine, 
 
 And Thine the crowning triumph of that day. 
 
 When sun and mist and hail and lightning fought 
 
 In Sicily's behest, — and now, blind, blind! 
 
 The curse of utter darkness ! Said I, curse ? 
 
 Why cursed? O Goddess ! can the truth be there, 
 
 The awful truth be there, and Thou be false. 
 
 Thy promptings hellish falsehood, when I slew, — 
 
 No, no, I did not slay, — I held my hand, — 
 
 'Twas not my sword : — O, have I come to this, 
 
 That I should palter like a felon wretch. 
 
 Stammering excuse to shield a forfeit life ! 
 
 Are all the doubts of all those weary years 
 
 Loosed by the sudden sentence of the Power, 
 
 Who sees, and weighs, and knows? The Furies' curse? 
 
I02 TYRANTS OF SYRACUSE. 
 
 I mind me, when the mimic sisters shook 
 A shuddering horror from the gaping crowd, 
 The man who slew his mother, — slew, for stress 
 Of private wrong, — could face, could see, his foes: 
 His eyes were bright and bold to trust the God, 
 That stood beside him at the pictured shrine, 
 Visible, to justify the deed; but II 
 I see not, know not; only, when the flash. 
 Red flash, red crimson, comes athwart my black, 
 I see, — I seem to see, — 
 
 O Goddess ! Thou 
 To whom my faith is fixed, whom now to doubt 
 Were fiercer agony of guilt than drave 
 That Fury-haunted son : — his doom was swift. 
 No breathing-time of sweet prosperity. 
 No grateful country saved, no glory, whelmed, 
 As, after wealth of sunshine through the years. 
 Our Aetna whelms the glory of its fields 
 With fires of hell ; — I will not, must not, doubt. 
 Only, O Goddess ! grant me of thy grace 
 
III. TIMOLEON. 103 
 
 Some sign, some token, to confirm my trust. 
 That this thick-gathered blackness bury not 
 Timoleon's name, and darken all my days. 
 
 What do I hear ? The trampling hoofs of mules, 
 The shout of thousand voices? What is this? 
 'The Senate and free State of Syracuse, 
 Debating matter of high import, wait 
 The gracious presence of Timoleon, 
 Their city's saviour, and its only stay.' 
 
 Well did I do to fling all doubt aside, 
 ' Timoleon their saviour ! ' — I did well. 
 
 ^