Page:Tragedies of Euripides (Way 1896) v2.djvu/324

Who came on me plucking the roses, and throwing
Into my gown-lap their buds fresh-blowing,
To bear to the Brazen Fane their pride.
And he soared with his prey through the clouds of heaven,
And to this land all unblest he brought her,
And he made her a strife, for calamity striven,
For Hellas, of Priam's people who sought her. 250
But Helen, by Simoïs' crimsoned water,
Was a breath, was a battle-cry—nought beside.

Sorrows are thine, I know: yet is it best
Lightly as may be to endure life's ills.

Friends, 'neath the yoke of what doom am I bowed? 255
Bore not my mother a monster unto men?
For never Hellene nor barbarian dame
Brought forth white vial of a fledgling brood,^[1]
Wherein to Zeus men say that Leda bare me.
A marvel are my life and all my fortunes, 260
In part through Hera, through my beauty in part.
Oh could I, like a picture blotted out,
For that fair favour take uncomeliness!
Oh might the Greeks forget the lot accurst
That now is mine, and treasure memories 265
Of honour touching me, as now of shame!
Whoso, on one chance centring all his hopes,
Is stricken of God, hard though it be, may bear it;