LXVII.

Not now in wrath OEnone came; but fair
Like a young bride when nigh her bliss she knows,
And in the soft night of her fallen hair
Shone flowers like stars, more white than Ida's snows,
And scarce men dared to look on her, of those
The pyre that guarded; suddenly she came,
And sprang upon the pyre, and shrill arose
Her song of death, like incense through the flame.

LXVIII.

And still the song, and still the flame went up,
But when the flame wax'd fierce, the singing died;
And soon with red wine from a golden cup
Priests drench'd the pyre; but no man might divide
The ashes of the Bridegroom from the Bride.
Nay, they were wedded, and at rest again,
As in those old days on the mountain-side,
Before the promise of their youth was vain.



BOOK VI--THE SACK OF TROY. THE RETURN OF HELEN



The sack of Troy, and of how Menelaus would have let stone Helen, but
Aphrodite saved her, and made them at one again, and how they came