roam Waiting the wind that blows at last for home, For wives and children, left long years away, Beyond the seed's tenth fullness and decay, To work this land's undoing.
And for me, Since Argive Hera conquereth, and she Who wrought with Hera to the Phrygians' woe, Pallas, behold, I bow mine head and go Forth from great Ilion[3] and mine altars old. When a still city lieth in the hold Of Desolation, all God's spirit there Is sick and turns from worship.--Hearken where The ancient River waileth with a voice Of many women, portioned by the choice Of war amid new lords, as the lots leap For Thessaly, or Argos, or the steep Of Theseus' Rock. And others yet there are, High women, chosen from the waste of war For the great kings, behind these portals hid; And with them that Laconian Tyndarid[4], Helen, like them a prisoner and a prize. And this unhappy one--would any eyes Gaze now on Hecuba? Here at the Gates She lies 'mid many tears for many fates Of wrong. One child beside Achilles' grave In secret slain[5], Polyxena the brave, Lies bleeding. Priam and his sons are gone; And, lo, Cassandra[6], she the Chosen One, Whom Lord Apollo spared to walk her way A swift and virgin spirit, on this day Lust hath her, and she goeth garlanded A bride of wrath to Agamemnon's bed.
[He turns to go; and another divine Presence becomes visible in the dusk. It is the goddess PALLAS ATHENA.
O happy long ago, farewell, farewell, Ye shining towers and mine old citadel; Broken by Pallas[7], Child of God, or still Thy roots had held thee true.
PALLAS.
Is it the will Of God's high Brother, to whose hand is given Great power of old, and worship of all Heaven, To suffer speech from one whose enmities This day are cast aside?
POSEIDON.
His will it is: Kindred and long companionship withal, Most high Athena, are things magical.
PALLAS.
Blest be thy gentle mood!--Methinks I see A road of comfort here, for thee and me.
POSEIDON.
Thou hast some counsel of the Gods, or word Spoken of Zeus? Or is it tidings heard From some far Spirit?
PALLAS.
For this Ilion's sake, Whereon we tread, I seek thee, and would make My hand as thine.
POSEIDON.
Hath that old hate and deep Failed, where she lieth in her ashen sleep? Thou pitiest her?
PALLAS.
Speak first; wilt thou be one In heart with me and hand till all be done?
POSEIDON.
Yea; but lay bare thy heart. For this land's sake Thou comest, not for Hellas?
PALLAS.
I would make Mine ancient enemies laugh for joy, and bring On these Greek ships a bitter homecoming.
POSEIDON.
Swift is thy spirit's path, and strange withal, And hot thy love and hate, where'er they fall.
PALLAS.
A deadly wrong they did me, yea within Mine holy place: thou knowest?
POSEIDON.
I know the sin Of Ajax[8], when he cast Cassandra down....
PALLAS.
And no man rose and smote him; not a frown Nor word from all the Greeks!
POSEIDON.
And 'twas thine hand That gave them Troy!
PALLAS.
Therefore with thee I stand To smite them.
POSEIDON.
All thou cravest, even now Is ready in mine heart. What seekest thou?
PALLAS.
An homecoming that striveth ever more And cometh to no home.
POSEIDON.
Here on the shore Wouldst hold them or amid mine own salt foam?
PALLAS.
When the last ship hath bared her sail for home! Zeus shall send rain, long rain and flaw of driven Hail, and a whirling darkness blown from heaven; To me his levin-light he promiseth O'er ships and men, for scourging and hot death: Do thou make wild the roads of the sea, and steep With war of waves and yawning of the deep, Till dead men choke Euboea's curling bay. So Greece shall dread even in an after day My house, nor scorn the Watchers of strange lands!
POSEIDON.