STROPHE II.

Thus one ere now hath fed

A youngling lion at his hearth,
A fond milk-loving suckling, bred
Up with his children, and cherished
With them in life's first setting forth,
A fondling full of gentle mirth,
Unto the boys all playfulness,

A joyaunce whom the old would bless.
And ofttimes on their arms 'twould lie
In fashion like a little child;

Then sought the outstretched hand, and smiled,
Fawning in hunger's strong necessity.

ANTISTROPHE II.

But older-grown it showed

At length its parents' savage mood,"

Paying his fosterers' gifts of food

129

With their youngling lambs' slain multitude :
A guest unbid the feast he strewed,

And all the house grew rank with blood;
The household's pang unconquered,
A mighty death-bane slaughter-bred.
Sure from some Godhead at the first
It came, a kind of priest to be,

A priest of wrong and misery,

The house to wreck wherein its youth was nurst.

STROPHE III.

E'en thus there came, I fain would say,
To Ilion's gate a form, and o'er the soul-
The spirit of a waveless calm-it stole

So hushed, so vision-like its ray.

The tranquil idol of all wealth and power,
The gentle shaft that wounds men's eyes,
Young Love's heart-thrilling flower130
She came,* but with a sudden sad surprise,
Askance she looked,131 aside she turned,
And wrought that bridal's bitter close,
At bed, at board, a Bride of Woes,
By stranger-loving Zeus suborned,
And full on Priam's Princes sent,
A Fury fierce,132 the Brides' Lament.†

* I never read this strophe but I am reminded of that beautiful passage, the description of Jane, in Mr. Planche's edition of Rowley's 'Woman never Vext,' and which, as it is no mere parallel or simple illustration, I will cite at length in this place:

"Can she be mortal? I have read of shapes

Like that, in legends of the olden days

The beautiful imaginings of men

Rapt and inspired! Such a form she wore,

The nymph of Elis, whom the river-god

Through earth and ocean follow'd-or young Thisbe,

The fond, ill-fated Girl of Babylon!

How fair her forehead is! And that soft cheek,
Wherein the bashful blood seems loath to dwell,

Lest it should stain such purity! Her eyes,
How bright, and yet how full of gentleness!
Fit lamps for such a shrine! What heart may 'scape
The silken meshes of yon nut-brown hair,
That clusters round her neck, like a dark vine
About the shaft of some unspotted column!

I will not wink, for fear the vision pass,

And leave me, sorrowing!"-Act ii. sc. 2, p. 27.

† Fresh as the young pet lion, there came to Troy a shape of beauty, gentle, calm, and spiritlike; but as that young lion after a while changed his mood and habit, so this Lovely One in a moment turned from her former self, altogether becoming, instead of a Bride of Love and Joy, a Bride of Lamentation and Woe-a curse to her husband instead of a blessing-and the Fury-like bane and loathing of all the other brides and bridegrooms of Troy. And all this was the work of Jupiter the Hospitable, in requital for the dishonourable deed of Paris in despoiling the Bed and Board of King Menelaus.

ANTISTROPHE III.

With men an old wise-word there lives,

That at its noon man's vast felicity

Hath sons, and will not blank and childless die;
But from good fortune springs and thrives

A restless greedy wrong, the race that rends.
Yet I in this from others stand

Apart, for never ends

The rough deed's issue, wrought by godless hand;
It breeds and breeds, and o'er and o'er

Its issue multiplies, a swarm,

Its own true counterpart in form,133
While from the Upright evermore

A gallant line of children comes,

To bless the hearth of righteous homes.*

STROPHE IV.

But Ancient Wrong is wont New Wrong to breed,13

That ever freshly, then or then, 135

Doth wanton in the woes of men.

When comes the hour decreed :

And the New bears Surfeit-pride,
Demon vainly fight-defied,

Ne'er in battle fierce withstood,
All-unhallowed Hardihood;

Black Ate, wont in blackened hall to brood,
Herself the dam, her Sire's similitude.

"Men say that great happiness must some time or other breed misery. I say nay. Wrong and robbery may beget wretchedness; but good and upright families are, from their very nature, happy, and their happiness no man taketh from them. Evil may and does produce an ever-growing inveteracy of evil; but good is always equable, and ever true and consistent with itself."

ANTISTROPHE IV.

While Righteousness upon the smoke-dimmed cot136
Shines, honouring the upright man,
But shuns the gold-enlaced divan,137
Where foul hand leaves its blot.

Hurrying thence with back-turned eyes
On to greet the good she flies,
Gracing not with praise unmeet,

Power of wealth, that counterfeit,

While with stern hand and strong the helm she plies, And pilots all things to their destinies.

CHORUS.

[Who sees at the distance the stir occasioned by the King's landing.]

Come then, O King, come in thy great renown,

Wrecker of old Troy-Town,

Offspring of Atreus, how shall I address thee;

How, without over-flight,

Or stinting what is right,

Hit the true meed of grace wherewith to bless thee?

What seems to be, the mass of men prefer

To that which is,138 and here do greatly err,
Transgressing right to choose the worser part.
O'er one in evil plight,

All ready stand to groan,139 but sorrow's bite,140
Their false blunt sorrow, probes not to the heart.
And thus with them in seeming likelihood
Will men put on their fellows' merry mood,
And laugh as they laugh, and with violence rude,
Force their unsmiling faces to a smile.141

But the good Shepherd knows his sheep the while;

Nor him can that man's eyes escape that seem
Filled with the fresh tide, drawn

From out the full heart's loving stream,
Yet only seem for they but falsely fawn,

And smile with friendship's weak and watery gleam.14

A day there was, I will not hide the thing,
When thou, for Helen's sake, thy war array
Wast setting forth, and thou, my Lord, O King,
Wast little lovely in mine eyes that day :143

Nor with a wise heart didst thou seem to hold
Thy wisdom's helm in hand ;144 but one belike
Who would by dint of sacrifice make bold

A loving host whom death that hour might strike.
But now-away the shallow thought-

Away the harsh unloving mind,

For unto men who well have wrought,
The toil is sweet, the travail kind.

Thou, inquisition had, and all things heard,

In time shalt know who righteously and well,
And who with tutelage unseasonable,

In matters of the State hath minister'd.

[The procession that has been approaching from the shore during the foregoing address of the Chorus now appears. Enter KING AGAMEMNON in a triumphal chariot, with CASSANDRA. Greek warriors and attendants following.]

KING AGAMEMNON.

'Tis meet that Argos, first of all, I hail,

Escort of

And the Good Gods that guard her honoured pale:
Gods that have given me to return in peace,
And wreak on Priam's Town the wrongs of Greece.
For, not as prattle of a pleader's tongue,

Heard they our deep debate of right and wrong,