The palaces and places of my youth,

I long'd to fall into my mother's arms,

And tell a thousand tales of near escapes.

And lo! the nurse, that fondled me of yore,

Fell with glad tears upon my neck, and told

How she, and how my mother, all this while

[35]

Had dream'd of all I was to do, and said

How dear I should be to my mother's eyes.

Her words shook me, but shook not my resolve.

For even then there came that sterner voice,

Echoing to what was highest in the soul.

Then, like to those who have a work on earth,

And put far from them lips of wife or child,

And gird them to the accomplishment; so I

Strode in, nor saw at all mine ancient halls;

And struck my father's murderess, not my mother.

And, when I had smitten, lo, the strength of gods

Pass'd from me, and the old, familiar halls

Reel'd back on me; dim statues, that of old

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