The death of Hector was also lamented by Helen, and her lamentation is thus spoken of by COLERIDGE: "I have always thought the following speech, in which Helen laments Hector, and hints at her own invidious and unprotected situation in Troy, as almost the sweetest passage in the poem. It is another striking instance of that refinement of feeling and softness of tone which so generally distinguish the last book of the Iliad from the rest." Helen's Lamentation. "Ah, dearest friend! in whom the gods had joined The mildest manners with the bravest mind, Now twice ten years (unhappy years) are o'er Since Paris brought me to the Trojan shore; (Oh, had I perished ere that form divine Seduced this soft, this easy heart of mine!) Yet was it ne'er my fate from thee to find A deed ungentle, or a word unkind: When others cursed the authoress of their woe, Thy pity checked my sorrows in their flow: If some proud brother eyed me with disdain, Or scornful sister, with her sweeping train, Thy gentle accents softened all my pain. For thee I mourn; and mourn myself in thee, The wretched source of all this misery. The fate I caused forever I bemoan; Sad Helen has no friend, now thou art gone! Through Troy's wide streets abandoned shall I roam! In Troy deserted, as abhorred at home!" --POPE'S Trans. THE FATE OF TROY. Homer's Iliad ends with the burial of Hector, and gives no account of the result of the war and the fate of the chief actors in the conflict. But in VIRGIL'S Æne'id, which gives an account of the escape of Æne'as, from the flames of Troy, and of his wanderings until he reaches the shores of Italy, the way in which Troy is taken, soon after the death of Hector, is told by Æneas to Dido, the Queen of Carthage. By the advice of Ulysses a huge wooden horse was constructed in the Greek camp, in which he and other Grecian warriors concealed themselves, while the remainder burned their tents and sailed away to the island of Ten'edos, behind which they secreted their vessels. Æneas begins his account as follows: "By destiny compelled, and in despair, The Greeks grew weary of the tedious war, And by Minerva's aid a fabric reared Which like a steed of monstrous height appeared. The sides were planked with pine: they feigned it made For their return, and this the vow they paid. Thus they pretend, but in the hollow side Selected numbers of their soldiers hide; With inward arms the dire machine they load, And iron bowels stuff the dark abode.