THE HEROINES.

THE HEROINES.

HELENA.

(Tenth year of Troy-Siege.)

She stood upon the wall of windy Troy,

And lifted high both arms, and cried aloud

With no man near:—

"Troy-town and glory of Greece

Strive, let the flame aspire, and pride of life

Glow to white heat! Great lords be strong, rejoice,

Lament, know victory, know defeat-then die;
Fair is the living many-coloured play

Of hates and loves, and fair it is to cease,

To cease from these and all Earth's comely things.

I, Helena, impatient of a couch

Dim-scented, and dark eyes my face had fed,

And soft captivity of circling arms,

Come forth to shed my spirit on you, a wind

And sunlight of commingling life and death.
City and tented plain behold who stands

Betwixt you! Seems she worth a play of swords,
And glad expense of rival hopes and hates?

Have the Gods given a prize which may content,
Who set your games afoot,—no fictile vase,
But a sufficient goblet of great gold,

Embossed with heroes, filled with perfumed wine?

How! doubt ye? Thus I draw the robe aside

And bare the breasts of Helen.

Yesterday

A mortal maiden I beheld, the light

Tender within her eyes, laying white arms

Around her sire's mailed breast, and heard her

chide

Because his cheek was blood-splashed,-I beheld
And did not wish me her. O, not for this

A God's blood thronged within my mother's veins !
For no such tender purpose rose the swan
With ruffled plumes, and hissing in his joy