Lit up the towers of Troy o’er sea and land;
And Juliet, swaying at her window’s height,
What slender lily in the wan moonlight.”
“I do not know,” the little maid replied,
“The names of which you speak, but ere she died
My mother told me many stories old,
Some joyous and some sad, of warriors bold,
And spirits, haunting forest, plain, and stream.
Each had its god, and creatures of strange form,
Half beast, half human; all these figures seem