I am the King, upon whose balance lies
The nation’s need to prompt me to be wise.
Ruin to all I cherish, if I fail.
God, judge for me, thy wisdom turn the scale.
Curtain.
FIRST CHORUS
Rose-Flower.
Once long ago young Nireus was the King
In Syme Island, so the stories say,
And at his birth the gods made holiday,
And blessed the child and gave him each one thing,
Courage, and skill, and beauty, and bright eyes,
Wisdom, and charm, and many another power,
So that he grew to manhood like a flower
For beauty, and like God for being wise.
Now Nireus’ friend was Paris, out of Troy,
Paris, the prince, the archer, who had seen
The goddesses within the forest green;
King Priam’s son, a peacock of a boy.
Moon-Blossom.
At Sparta’s court, not far from Syme Isle,
Bright Helen lived, King Menelaus’ Queen,
The loveliest woman that has ever been,
Who made all mortals love her by her smile.
Nireus and Paris went together there
To Helen’s palace: and when Nireus saw
Helen the Queen, the lovely without flaw,
He loved her like her shadow everywhere.