His tears, to tell such things, as thou would'st have re-told?

II. "And now already from the heaven's high steep
The dewy night wheels down, and sinking slow,
The stars are gently wooing us to sleep.
But, if thy longing be so great to know
The tale of Troy's last agony and woe,
The toils we suffered, though my heart doth ache,
And grief would fain the memory forego
Of scenes so sad, yet, Lady, for thy sake
I will begin,"--and thus the sire of Troy outspake;

III. "Broken by war, long baffled by the force
Of fate, as fortune and their hopes decline,
The Danaan leaders build a monstrous horse,
Huge as a hill, by Pallas' craft divine,
And cleft fir-timbers in the ribs entwine.
They feign it vowed for their return, so goes
The tale, and deep within the sides of pine
And caverns of the womb by stealth enclose
Armed men, a chosen band, drawn as the lots dispose.

IV. "In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle
Renowned and rich, while Priam held command,
Now a mere bay and roadstead fraught with guile.
Thus far they sailed, and on the lonely strand
Lay hid, while fondly to Mycenae's land
We thought the winds had borne them. Troy once more
Shakes off her ten years' sorrow. Open stand
The gates. With joy to the abandoned shore,