Mirth the halls of Troy was filling,
Ere its lofty ramparts fell;
From the golden lute so thrilling
Hymns of joy were heard to
swell.
From the sad and tearful slaughter
All had laid their arms aside,
For Pelides Priams daughter
Claimed then as his own fair
bride.
Laurel branches with them bearing,
Troop on troop in bright array
To the temples were repairing,
Owning Thymbrius sovereign
sway.
Through the streets, with frantic
measure,
Danced the bacchanal mad round,
And, amid the radiant pleasure,
Only one sad breast was found.
Joyless in the midst of gladness,
None to heed her, none to
love,
Roamed Cassandra, plunged in sadness,
To Apollos laurel grove.
To its dark and deep recesses
Swift the sorrowing priestess
hied,
And from off her flowing tresses
Tore the sacred band, and
cried:
All around with joy is beaming,
Evry heart is happy
now,
And my sire is fondly dreaming,
Wreathed with flowers my sisters
brow
I alone am doomed to wailing,
That sweet vision flies from
me;
In my mind, these walls assailing,
Fierce destruction I can see.
Though a torch I see all-glowing,
Yet tis not in Hymens
hand;
Smoke across the skies is blowing,
Yet tis from no votive
brand.
Yonder see I feasts entrancing,
But in my prophetic soul,
Hear I now the God advancing,
Who will steep in tears the
bowl!
And they blame my lamentation,
And they laugh my grief to
scorn;
To the haunts of desolation
I must bear my woes forlorn.
All who happy are, now shun me,
And my tears with laughter
see;
Heavy lies thy hand upon me,
Cruel Pythian deity!
Thy divine decrees foretelling,
Wherefore hast thou thrown
me here,
Where the ever-blind are dwelling,
With a mind, alas, too clear?
Wherefore hast thou power thus given,
What must needs occur to know?
Wrought must be the will of Heaven-
Onward come the hour of woe!
When impending fate strikes
terror,
Why remove the covering?
Life we have alone in error,
Knowledge with it death must
bring.
Take away this prescience tearful,
Take this sight of woe from
me;
Of thy truths, alas! how fearful
Tis the mouthpiece
frail to be!
Veil my mind once more in
slumbers
Let me heedlessly rejoice;
Never have I sung glad numbers
Since Ive been thy
chosen voice.
Knowledge of the future giving,
Thou hast stolen the present
day,
Stolen the moments joyous
living,-
Take thy false gift, then,
away!
Neer with bridal train
around me,
Have I wreathed my radiant
brow,
Since to serve thy fane I bound
me-
Bound me with a solemn vow.
Evermore in grief I languish-
All my youth in tears was
spent;
And with thoughts of bitter anguish
My too-feeling heart is rent.
Joyously my friends are playing,
All around are blest and glad,
In the paths of pleasure straying,-
My poor heart alone is sad.
Spring in vain unfolds each treasure,
Filling all the earth with
bliss;
Who in life can eer take
pleasure,
When is seen its dark abyss?
With her heart in vision
burning,
Truly blest is Polyxene,
As a bride to clasp him yearning.
Him, the noblest, best Hellene!
And her breast with rapture swelling,
All its bliss can scarcely
know;
Een the Gods in heavenly
dwelling
Envying not, when dreaming
so.
He to whom my heart is plighted
Stood before my ravished eye,
And his look, by passion lighted,
Toward me turned imploringly.
With the loved one, oh, how gladly
Homeward would I take my flight
But a Stygian shadow sadly
Steps between us every night.
Cruel Proserpine is sending
All her spectres pale to me;
Ever on my steps attending
Those dread shadowy forms
I see.
Though I seek, in mirth and laughter
Refuge from that ghastly train,
Still I see them hastening after,-
Neer shall I know joy
again.
And I see the death-steel
glancing,
And the eye of murder glare;
On, with hasty strides advancing,
Terror haunts me everywhere.
Vain I seek alleviation;-
Knowing, seeing, suffering
all,
I must wait the consummation,
In a foreign land must fall.
While her solemn words are ringing,
Hark! a dull and wailing tone
From the temples gate upspringing,-
Dead lies Thetis mighty
son!
Eris shakes her snake-locks hated,
Swiftly flies each deity,
And oer Ilions
walls ill-fated
Thunder-clouds loom heavily!
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