It is ours to tell of the Sign of the War-way given, To men more strong, (For a life that is kin unto ours yet breathes from heaven A spell, a Strength of Song:) How the twin-throned Might of Achaia, one Crown divided Above all Greeks that are, With avenging hand and spear upon Troy was guided By the Bird of War. ’Twas a King among birds to each of the Kings of the Sea, One Eagle black, one black but of fire-white tail, By the House, on the Spear-hand, in station that all might see; And they tore a hare, and the life in her womb that grew, Yea, the life unlived and the races unrun they slew. _Sorrow, sing sorrow: but good prevail, prevail_! (_How Calchas read the sign; his Vision of the Future_.) And the War-seer wise, as he looked on the Atreid Yoke Twain-tempered, knew Those fierce hare-renders the lords of his host; and spoke, Reading the omen true. “At the last, the last, this Hunt hunteth Ilion down, Yea, and before the wall Violent division the fulness of land and town Shall waste withal; If only God’s eye gloom not against our gates, And the great War-curb of Troy, fore-smitten, fail. For Pity lives, and those wingèd Hounds she hates, Which tore in the Trembler’s body the unborn beast. And Artemis abhorreth the eagles’ feast.” _Sorrow, sing sorrow: but good prevail, prevail_! (_He prays to Artemis to grant the fulfilment of the Sign, but, as his vision increases, he is afraid and calls on Paian, the Healer, to hold her back_.) “Thou beautiful One, thou tender lover Of the dewy breath of the Lion’s child; Thou the delight, through den and cover, Of the young life at the breast of the wild, Yet, oh, fulfill, fulfill The sign of the Eagles’ Kill! Be the vision accepted, albeit horrible…. But I-ê, I-ê! Stay her, O Paian, stay! For lo, upon other evil her heart she setteth, Long wastes of wind, held ship and unventured sea, On, on, till another Shedding of Blood be wrought: They kill but feast not; they pray not; the law is broken; Strife in the flesh, and the bride she obeyeth not, And beyond, beyond, there abideth in wrath reawoken— It plotteth, it haunteth the house, yea, it never forgetteth— Wrath for a child to be.” So Calchas, reading the wayside eagles’ sign, Spake to the Kings, blessings and words of bale; And like his song be thine, _Sorrow, sing sorrow: but good prevail, prevail_! (_Such religion belongs to old and barbarous gods, and brings no peace. I turn to Zeus, who has shown man how to Learn by Suffering_.) Zeus! Zeus, whate’er He be, If this name He love to hear This He shall be called of me. Searching earth and sea and air Refuge nowhere can I find Save Him only, if my mind Will cast off before it die The burden of this vanity. One there was who reigned of old, Big with wrath to brave and blast, Lo, his name is no more told! And who followed met at last His Third-thrower, and is gone. Only they whose hearts have known Zeus, the Conqueror and the Friend, They shall win their vision’s end;