Andrew Lang

Helen of Troy Andrew Lang

The coming of Aphrodite, and how she told Helen that she must depart in company withParis, but promised withal that Helen, having fallen into a deep sleep, should awakeforgetful of her old life, and ignorant of her shame, and blameless of those evil deeds thatthe Goddess thrust upon her. I. Now in the upper chamber o'er the gateLay Menelaus on his carven bed, And swift and sudden as the stroke of FateA deep sleep fell upon his weary head. But the soft-wingèd God with wand of leadCame not near Helen; wistful did she lie, Till dark should change to grey, and grey to red, And golden thronèd Morn sweep o'er the sky. II. Slow pass'd the heavy night: like one who fearsThe step of murder, she lies quivering, If any cry of the night bird she hears; And strains her eyes to mark some dreadful thing, If but the curtains of the window swing, Stirr'd by the breath of night, and still she weptAs she were not the daughter of a king, And no strong king, her lord, beside her slept. III. Now in that hour, the folk who watch the night, Shepherds and fishermen, and they that plyStrange arts and seek their spells in the star-light, Beheld a marvel in the sea and sky, For all the waves of all the seas that sighBetween the straits of Hellé and the Nile, Flush'd with a flame of silver suddenly, From soft Cythera to the Cyprian isle.