Then rose a cunning harper in their midst. And sang the song of triumph and of peace Re-won, and with glad hearts untouched by care They heard; for no more fear of war had they, But of sweet toil of law-abiding days And blissful, fleeting hours henceforth they dreamed. All the War's Story in their eager ears He sang--how leagued peoples gathering met At hallowed Aulis--how the invincible strength Of Peleus' son smote fenced cities twelve In sea-raids, how he marched o'er leagues on leagues Of land, and spoiled eleven--all he wrought In fight with Telephus and Eetion-- How he slew giant Cycnus--all the toil Of war that through Achilles' wrath befell The Achaeans--how he dragged dead Hector round His own Troy's wall, and how he slew in fight Penthesileia and Tithonus' son:-- How Aias laid low Glaucus, lord of spears, Then sang he how the child of Aeacus' son Struck down Eurypylus, and how the shafts Of Philoctetes dealt to Paris death. Then the song named all heroes who passed in To ambush in the Horse of Guile, and hymned The fall of god-descended Priam's burg; The feast he sang last, and peace after war; Then many another, as they listed, sang. But when above those feasters midnight's stars Hung, ceased the Danaans from the feast and wine, And turned to sleep's forgetfulness of care, For that with yesterday's war-travail all Were wearied; wherefore they, who fain all night Had revelled, needs must cease: how loth soe'er, Sleep drew them thence; here, there, soft slumbered they. But in his tent Menelaus lovingly With bright-haired Helen spake; for on their eyes Sleep had not fallen yet. The Cyprian Queen Brooded above their souls, that olden love Might be renewed, and heart-ache chased away. Helen first brake the silence, and she said: "O Menelaus, be not wroth with me! Not of my will I left thy roof, thy bed, But Alexander and the sons of Troy Came upon me, and snatched away, when thou Wast far thence. Oftentimes did I essay By the death-noose to perish wretchedly, Or by the bitter sword; but still they stayed Mine hand, and still spake comfortable words To salve my grief for thee and my sweet child. For her sake, for the sake of olden love, And for thine own sake, I beseech thee now, Forget thy stern displeasure against thy wife." Answered her Menelaus wise of wit: "No more remember past griefs: seal them up Hid in thine heart. Let all be locked within The dim dark mansion of forgetfulness. What profits it to call ill deeds to mind?"