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(From Hecuba)
Translated by J. Reade
O MY Ilion, once we named thee | |
| City of the unconquered men; | |
| But the Grecian spear has tamed thee, | |
| Thou canst never rise again, | |
| Grecian clouds thy causeways darken;— | 5 |
| Ah! they cannot hide thy glory! | |
| Ages hence shall heroes hearken | |
| To the wonders of thy story. | |
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| O my Ilion, they have shorn thee | |
| Of thy lofty crown of towers! | 10 |
| Thy poor daughter can but mourn thee | |
| In her lonely, captive hours. | |
| They have robbed thee of thy beauty, | |
| Made thee foul with smoke and gore; | |
| Tears are now my only duty, | 15 |
| I shall tread thy streets no more. | |
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| O my Ilion, I remember— | |
| ’T was the hour of sweet repose, | |
| And my husband in our chamber | |
| Slept, nor dreamt of Grecian foes. | 20 |
| For the song and feast were over, | |
| And the spear was hung to rest, | |
| Never more, my hero-lover, | |
| Aimed by thee at foeman’s breast. | |
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| O my Ilion, at the mirror | 25 |
| I was binding up my hair, | |
| When my face grew pale with terror | |
| At the cry that rent the air. | |
| Hark! amid the din the Grecian | |
| Shout of triumph, “Troy is taken; | 30 |
| Ten years’ work has now completion,— | |
| Ilion’s haughty towers are shaken!” | |
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| O my Ilion, forth I hie me | |
| From his happy home and mine; | |
| Hapless, soon the Greeks descried me, | 35 |
| As I knelt at Phœbe’s shrine. | |
| Then, my husband slain before me, | |
| To the shore they hurried me, | |
| And from all I loved they tore me | |
| Fainting o’er the cruel sea. | 40 |
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