Naked they came to that smooth-swarded bower,

And at their feet the crocus brake like fire,

Violet, amaracus, and asphodel,

Lotos and lilies and a wind arose

:

And overhead the wandering ivy and vine,

This way and that, in many a wild festoon

Ran riot, garlanding the gnarled boughs

With bunch and berry and flower thro' and thro'.

"O mother Ida, harken ere I die.

On the tree-tops a crested peacock lit,

And o'er him flow'd a golden cloud, and lean'd
Upon him, slowly dropping fragrant dew.

Then first I heard the voice of her, to whom
Coming thro' Heaven, like a light that grows
Larger and clearer, with one mind the Gods
Rise up for reverence. She to Paris made
Proffer of royal power, ample rule

Unquestion'd, overflowing revenue

Wherewith to embellish state, from many a vale

And river-sunder'd champaign cloth'd with corn, Or labour'd mines undrainable of ore.

Honour,' she said, 'and homage, tax and toll,
From many an inland town and haven large,
Mast-throng'd beneath her shadowing citadel
In glassy bays among her tallest towers.'

"O mother Ida, harken ere I die.

Still she spake on and still she spake of power, 'Which in all action is the end of all ;

Power fitted to the season; wisdom-bred

And throned of wisdom-from all neighbour crowns

Alliance and allegiance, till thy hand

Fail from the sceptre-staff. Such boon from me, From me, Heaven's Queen, Paris, to thee king-born,

A shepherd all thy life but yet king-born,

Should come most welcome, seeing men, in power

Only, are likest gods, who have attain'd

Rest in a happy place and quiet seats

Above the thunder, with undying bliss
In knowledge of their own supremacy.'

"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. She ceased, and Paris held the costly fruit

Out at arm's-length, so much the thought of power
Flatter'd his spirit; but Pallas where she stood

Somewhat apart, her clear and bared limbs
O'erthwarted with the brazen-headed spear
Upon her pearly shoulder leaning cold,
The while, above, her full and earnest eye
Over her snow-cold breast and angry cheek
Kept watch, waiting decision, made reply.

"Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control,
These three alone lead life to sovereign power.
Yet not for power, (power of herself
Would come uncall'd for), but to live by law,
Acting the law we live by without fear;
And, because right is right, to follow right
Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.'

"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
Again she said: 'I woo thee not with gifts.

Sequel of guerdon could not alter me

To fairer. Judge thou me by what I am,

So shalt thou find me fairest.

From her v

Ambrosial

If gazing on divinity disrobed

Thy mortal eyes are frail to judge of fair,

Unbiass'd by self-profit, oh! rest thee sure
That I shall love thee well and cleave to thee,
So that my vigour, wedded to thy blood,
Shall strike within thy pulses, like a God's,
To push thee forward thro' a life of shocks,
Dangers, and deeds, until endurance grow
Sinew'd with action, and the full-grown will,
Circled thro' all experiences, pure law,

Commeasure perfect freedom.'

She sp

"Here she ceased,

But w

And

And Paris ponder'd, and I cried 'O Paris,
Give it to Pallas!' but he heard me not,
Or hearing would not hear me, woe is me!

"O mother Ida, many-fountain'd Ida, Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.

Idalian Aphrodite beautiful,

Fresh as the foam, new-bath'd in Paphian wells,

With rosy slender fingers backward drew

From her warm brows and bosom her deep hair
Ambrosial, golden round her lucid throat

And shoulder: from the violets her light foot
Shone rosy-white, and o'er her rounded form.
Between the shadows of the vine-bunches
Floated the glowing sunlights, as she moved.

"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.
She with a subtle smile in her mild eyes,
The herald of her triumph, drawing nigh
Half whisper'd in his ear, I promise thee
The fairest and most loving wife in Greece.'
She spoke and laugh'd: I shut my sight for fear :
But when I look'd, Paris had raised his arm,

And I beheld great Here's angry eyes,
As she withdrew into the golden cloud,

And I was left alone within the bower

And from that time to this I am alone,
And I shall be alone until I die.

;

'Yet, mother Ida, harken ere I die.

Fairest-why fairest wife? am I not fair?