Now in a copse a mighty boar there lay,
For through the boughs the wet winds never blew,
Nor lit the bright sun on it with his ray,
Nor rain might pierce the woven branches through,
But leaves had fallen deep the lair to strew:
Then questing of the hounds and men's foot-fall
Aroused the boar, and forth he sprang to view,
With eyes that burn'd, at bay, before them all.

XXIX.

Then Paris was the first to rush on him,
With spear aloft in his strong hand to smite,
And through the monster pierced the point; and dim
The flame fell in his eyes, and all his might
With his last cry went forth; forgetting fight,
Forgetting strength, he fell, and gladly then
They gather'd round, and dealt with him aright;
Then left his body with the serving men.

XXX.

Now birds were long awake, that with their cry
Were wont to waken Helen; and the dew
Where fell the sun upon the lawn was dry,
And all the summer land was glad anew;
And maidens' footsteps rang the palace through,
And with their footsteps chimed their happy song,
And one to other cried, "A marvel new