Guard Helen still, for whose fair womanhood

The sin was done, woe wrought, and all the blood

Of Danaan and Dardan in their pride

Shed; nor yet so the end, for Heré cried

Shrill on the heights more vengeance on wrong done,

And Greek or Trojan paid it. Late or soon

By sword or bitter arrow they went hence,

Each with their goodliest paying one man's offence.

Goodliest in Troy fell Hector; back to Greek

Then swung the doomstroke, and to Dis the bleak

Must pass great Hector's slayer. Zeus on high,

Hidden from men, held up the scales; the sky

Told Thetis that her son must go the way

He sent Queen Hecuba's—himself must pay,

Himself though young, splendid Achilles' self,

The price of manslaying, with blood for pelf.

A grief immortal took her, and she grieved

Deep in sea-cave, whereover restless heaved

The wine-dark ocean—silently, not moving,

Tearless, a god. O Gods, however loving,

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