PODAS OKUS.
7
'Twas the fraud of Priam's daughter,
Not the force of Priam's son,
Slew me—ask not why I sought her,
'Twas my doom-her work is done!
Fairer far than she, and dearer
By a thousand-fold thou art;
Come, my own one, nestle nearеr,
Cheating death of half his smart.
Not the force of Priam's son,
Slew me—ask not why I sought her,
'Twas my doom-her work is done!
Fairer far than she, and dearer
By a thousand-fold thou art;
Come, my own one, nestle nearеr,
Cheating death of half his smart.
Slowly, while your amber tresses
Shower down their golden rain,
Let me drink those last caresses,
Never to be felt again;
Yet th' Elysian halls are spacious,
Somewhere near me, I may keep
Room who knows?-The gods are gracious:
Lay me lower-let me sleep!
Shower down their golden rain,
Let me drink those last caresses,
Never to be felt again;
Yet th' Elysian halls are spacious,
Somewhere near me, I may keep
Room who knows?-The gods are gracious:
Lay me lower-let me sleep!
Lower yet, my senses wander,
And my spirit seems to roll
With the tide of swift Scamander
Rushing to a viewless goal.
In my cars, like distant washing
Of the surf upon the shore,
Drones a murmur, faintly splashing
'Tis the splash of Charon's oar.
And my spirit seems to roll
With the tide of swift Scamander
Rushing to a viewless goal.
In my cars, like distant washing
Of the surf upon the shore,
Drones a murmur, faintly splashing
'Tis the splash of Charon's oar.
