And strong and fair the south wind blew, and fleet Their voyaging, so merrily they fled To win that haven where the waters sweet Of clear Eurotas with the brine are wed, And swift their chariots and their horses sped To pleasant Lacedaemon, lying low Grey in the shade of sunset, but the head Of tall Taygetus like fire did glow.
LII.
And what but this is sweet: at last to win The fields of home, that change not while we change;To hear the birds their ancient song begin;To wander by the well-loved streams that range Where not one pool, one moss-clad stone is strange, Nor seem we older than long years ago, Though now beneath the grey roof of the grange The children dwell of them we used to know?
LIII.
Came there no trouble in the later days To mar the life of Helen, when the old Crowns and dominions perish'd, and the blaze Lit by returning Heraclidae roll'd Through every vale and every happy fold Of all the Argive land? Nay, peacefully Did Menelaus and the Queen behold The counted years of mortal life go by.
LIV.
"Death ends all tales," but this he endeth not;They grew not grey within the valley fair Of hollow Lacedaemon, but were brought To Rhadamanthus of the golden hair, Beyond the wide world's end; ah never there Comes storm nor snow; all grief is left behind, And men immortal, in enchanted air, Breathe the cool current of the Western wind.
LV.
But Helen was a Saint in Heathendom, A kinder Aphrodite; without fear Maidens and lovers to her shrine would come In fair Therapnae, by the waters clear Of swift Eurotas; gently did she hear All prayers of love, and not unheeded came The broken supplication, and the tear Of man or maiden overweigh'd with shame.
O'er Helen's shrine the grass is growing green, In desolate Therapnae; none the less Her sweet face now unworshipp'd and unseen Abides the symbol of all loveliness, Of Beauty ever stainless in the stress Of warring lusts and fears;--and still divine, Still ready with immortal peace to bless Them that with pure hearts worship at her shrine.
NOTE
[In this story in rhyme of the fortunes of Helen, the theory that she was an unwilling victim of the Gods has been preferred. Many of the descriptions of manners are versified from the Iliad and the Odyssey.
The description of the events after the death of Hector, and the account of the sack of Troy, is chiefly borrowed from Quintus Smyrnaeus.]
The character and history of Helen of Troy have been conceived of in very different ways by poets and mythologists. In attempting to trace the chief current of ancient traditions about Helen, we cannot really get further back than the Homeric poems, the Iliad and Odyssey. Philological conjecture may assure us that Helen, like most of the characters of old romance, is "merely the Dawn," or Light, or some other bright being carried away by Paris, who represents Night, or Winter, or the Cloud, or some other power of darkness. Without discussing these ideas, it may be said that the Greek poets (at all events before allegorical explanations of mythology came in, about five hundred years before Christ) regarded Helen simply as a woman of wonderful beauty. Homer was not thinking of the Dawn, or the Cloud when he described Helen among the Elders on the Ilian walls, or repeated her lament over the dead body of Hector. The Homeric poems are our oldest literary documents about Helen, but it is probable enough that the poet has modified and purified more ancient traditions which still survive in various fragments of Greek legend.
In Homer Helen is always the daughter of Zeus. Isocrates tells us ("Helena," 211 b) that "while many of the demigods were children of Zeus, he thought the paternity of none of his daughters worth claiming, save that of Helen only." In Homer, then, Helen is the daughter of Zeus, but Homer says nothing of the famous legend which makes Zeus assume the form of a swan to woo the mother of Helen.
Unhomeric as this myth is, we may regard it as extremely ancient.
Very similar tales of pursuit and metamorphosis, for amatory or other purposes, among the old legends of Wales, and in the "Arabian Nights," as well as in the myths of Australians and Red Indians.
Again, the belief that different families of mankind descend from animals, as from the Swan, or from gods in the shape of animals, is found in every quarter of the world, and among the rudest races.
Many Australian natives of to-day claim descent, like the royal house of Sparta, from the Swan. The Greek myths hesitated as to whether Nemesis or Leda was the bride of the Swan. Homer only mentions Leda among "the wives and daughters of mighty men," whose ghosts Odysseus beheld in Hades: "And I saw Leda, the famous bedfellow of Tyndareus, who bare to Tyndareus two sons, hardy of heart, Castor, tamer of steeds, and the boxer Polydeuces." These heroes Helen, in the Iliad (iii. 238), describes as her mother's sons. Thus, if Homer has any distinct view on the subject, he holds that Leda is the mother of Helen by Zeus, of the Dioscuri by Tyndareus.
