XV.
“The dawn, or noon, or twilight, draweth near
When one shall smite me on the bridge of war,
Or with the ruthless sword, or with the spear,
Or with the bitter arrow flying far.
But as a man’s heart, so his good days are,
That Zeus, the Lord of Thunder, giveth him,
Wherefore I follow Fortune, like a star,
Whate’er may wait me in the distance dim.
XVI.
“Now all men call me Paris, Priam’s son,
Who widely rules a peaceful folk and still.
Nay, though ye dwell afar off, there is none
But hears of Ilios on the windy hill,
And of the plain that the two rivers fill
With murmuring sweet streams the whole year long,
And walls the Gods have wrought with wondrous skill
Where cometh never man to do us wrong.
XVII.
“Wherefore I sail’d not here for help in war,
Though well the Argives in such need can aid.
The force that comes on me is other far;
One that on all men comes: I seek the maid
Whom golden Aphrodite shall persuade
To lay her hand in mine, and follow me,
To my white halls within the cedar shade
Beyond the waters of the barren sea.”
XVIII.
Then at the Goddess’ name grew Helen pale,
Like golden stars that flicker in the dawn,
Or like a child that hears a dreadful tale,
Or like the roses on a rich man’s lawn,
When now the suns of Summer are withdrawn,
And the loose leaves with a sad wind are stirr’d,
Till the wet grass is strewn with petals wan,—
So paled the golden Helen at his word.
XIX.
But swift the rose into her cheek return’d
And for a little moment, like a flame,
The perfect face of Argive Helen burn’d,
As doth a woman’s, when some spoken name
Brings back to mind some ancient love or shame,
But none save Paris mark’d the thing, who said,
“My tale no more must weary this fair dame,
With telling why I wander all unwed.”