Now when the folk about the haven knew The scarlet prow of Paris, swift they ran And the good ship within the haven drew, And merrily their welcoming began.
But none the face of Helen dared to scan;Their bold eyes fell before they had their fill, For all men deem'd her that Idalian Who loved Anchises on the lonely hill.
XXIX.
But when her sweet smile and her gentleness And her kind speech had won them from dismay, They changed their minds, and 'gan the Gods to bless Who brought to Ilios that happy day.
And all the folk fair Helen must convey, Crown'd like a bride, and clad with flame-hued pall, Through the rich plain, along the water-way Right to the great gates of the Ilian wall.
XXX.
And through the vines they pass'd, where old and young Had no more heed of the glad vintaging, But all unpluck'd the purple clusters hung, Nor more of Linus did the minstrel sing, For he and all the folk were following, Wine-stain'd and garlanded, in merry bands, Like men when Dionysus came as king, And led his revel from the sun-burnt lands, XXXI.
So from afar the music and the shout Roll'd up to Ilios and the Scaean gate, And at the sound the city folk came out And bore sweet Helen--such a fairy weight As none might deem the burden of Troy's fate -Across the threshold of the town, and all Flock'd with her, where King Priam sat in state, Girt by his elders, on the Ilian wall.
XXXII.
No man but knew him by his crown of gold, And golden-studded sceptre, and his throne;Ay, strong he seem'd as those great kings of old, Whose image is eternal on the stone Won from the dust that once was Babylon;But kind of mood was he withal, and mild, And when his eyes on Argive Helen shone, He loved her as a father doth a child.
XXXIII.
Round him were set his peers, as Panthous, Antenor, and Agenor, hardly grey, Scarce touch'd as yet with age, nor garrulous As are cicalas on a sunny day:
Such might they be when years had slipp'd away, And made them over-weak for war or joy, Content to watch the Leaguer as it lay Beside the ships, beneath the walls of Troy.
XXXIV.
Then Paris had an easy tale to tell, Which then might win upon men's wond'ring ears, Who deem'd that Gods with mortals deign to dwell, And that the water of the West enspheres The happy Isles that know not Death nor tears;Yea, and though monsters do these islands guard, Yet men within their coasts had dwelt for years Uncounted, with a strange love for reward.
XXXV.
And there had Paris ventured: so said he, -Had known the Sirens' song, and Circe's wile;And in a cove of that Hesperian sea Had found a maiden on a lonely isle;A sacrifice, if so men might beguile The wrath of some beast-god they worshipp'd there, But Paris, 'twixt the sea and strait defile, Had slain the beast, and won the woman fair.
XXXVI.
Then while the happy people cried "Well done,"And Priam's heart was melted by the tale -For Paris was his best-beloved son -
Came a wild woman, with wet eyes, and pale Sad face, men look'd on when she cast her veil, Not gladly; and none mark'd the thing she said, Yet must they hear her long and boding wail That follow'd still, however fleet they fled.
XXXVII.
She was the priestess of Apollo's fane, Cassandra, and the God of prophecy Spurr'd her to speak and rent her! but in vain She toss'd her wasted arms against the sky, And brake her golden circlet angrily, And shriek'd that they had brought within the gate Helen, a serpent at their hearts to lie!
Helen, a hell of people, king, and state!
XXXVIII.
But ere the God had left her; ere she fell And foam'd among her maidens on the ground, The air was ringing with a merry swell Of flute, and pipe, and every sweetest sound, In Aphrodite's fane, and all around Were roses toss'd beneath the glimmering green Of that high roof, and Helen there was crown'd The Goddess of the Trojans, and their Queen.
