FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58  
59   60   61   62   63   64   65   66   >>  
till Stood by her with kind speech and gentle heart, The sword of war, pure faith, and steadfast will, That strove to keep all evil things apart. * * * * * XXXII. And so men buried Hector. But they came, The Amazons, from frozen fields afar. A match for heroes in the dreadful game Of spears, the darlings of the God of War, Whose coming was to Priam dearer far Than light to him that is a long while blind, When leech's hand hath taen away the bar That vex'd him, or the healing God is kind; XXXIII. And Troy was glad, and with the morning light The Amazons went forth to slay and slay; And wondrously they drave the foe in flight, Until the Sun had wander'd half his way; But when he stoop'd to twilight and the grey Hour when men loose the steer beneath the yoke, No more Achilles held him from the fray, But dreadful through the women's ranks he broke. XXXIV. Then comes eclipse upon the crescent shield, And death on them that bear it, and they fall One here, one there, about the stricken field, As in that art, of Love memorial, Which moulders on the holy Carian wall. Ay, still we see, still love, still pity there The warrior-maids, so brave, so god-like tall, In Time's despite imperishably fair. XXXV. But, as a dove that braves a falcon, stood Penthesilea, wrath outcasting fear, Or as a hind, that in the darkling wood Withstands a lion for her younglings dear; So stood the girl before Achilles' spear; In vain, for singing from his hand it sped, And crash'd through shield and breastplate till the sheer Cold bronze drank blood, and down the queen fell dead. XXXVI. Then from her locks the helm Achilles tore And boasted o'er the slain; but lo, the face Of her thus lying in the dust and gore Seem'd lovelier than is the maiden grace Of Artemis, when weary from the chase, She sleepeth in a haunted dell unknown. And all the Argives marvell'd for a space, But most Achilles made a heavy moan: XXXVII. And in his heart there came the weary thought Of all that was, and all that might have been, Of all the sorrow that his sword had wrought, Of Death that now drew near him: of the green Vales of Larissa, where, with such a queen, With such a love as now his spear had slain, He had been happy, who must wind the skein Of grievous wars, and ne'er be glad again. XXXVIII. Yea, now wax'd Fate half weary of her game, A
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   34   35   36   37   38   39   40   41   42   43   44   45   46   47   48   49   50   51   52   53   54   55   56   57   58  
59   60   61   62   63   64   65   66   >>  



Top keywords:

Achilles

 

dreadful

 

Amazons

 

shield

 
bronze
 

boasted

 

imperishably

 

Penthesilea

 

Withstands

 

younglings


darkling

 

outcasting

 

breastplate

 
singing
 
falcon
 
braves
 

haunted

 

Larissa

 

sorrow

 

wrought


XXXVIII

 

grievous

 

thought

 
lovelier
 

maiden

 

Artemis

 
XXXVII
 
marvell
 

sleepeth

 
unknown

Argives
 

dearer

 
wondrously
 

flight

 
morning
 

healing

 

XXXIII

 
coming
 

steadfast

 

strove


speech

 
gentle
 

things

 

heroes

 
spears
 

darlings

 

fields

 

buried

 
Hector
 

frozen