O terror! what hath she perceived?--O joy! What doth she look on?--whom doth she behold? Her Hero slain upon the beach of Troy? 15 His vital presence? his corporeal mould? It is--if sense deceive her not--'tis He! And a God leads him, wingèd Mercury! Mild Hermes spake--and touched her with his wand That calms all fear; "Such grace hath crowned thy prayer, 20 Laodamía! that at Jove's command Thy Husband walks the paths of upper air: He comes to tarry with thee three hours' space; Accept the gift, behold him face to face!" Forth sprang the impassioned Queen her Lord to clasp; Again that consummation she essayed; 26 But unsubstantial Form eludes her grasp As often as that eager grasp was made. The Phantom parts--but parts to re-unite, And re-assume his place before her sight. 30 "Protesiláus, lo! thy guide is gone! Confirm, I pray, the vision with thy voice: This is our palace,--yonder is thy throne; Speak, and the floor thou tread'st on will rejoice. Not to appal me have the gods bestowed 35 This precious boon; and blest a sad abode." "Great Jove, Laodamía! doth not leave His gifts imperfect:--Spectre though I be, I am not sent to scare thee or deceive; But in reward of thy fidelity. 40 And something also did my worth obtain; For fearless virtue bringeth boundless gain. "Thou knowest, the Delphic oracle foretold That the first Greek who touched the Trojan strand Should die; but me the threat could[2] not withhold: A generous cause a victim did demand; 46 And forth I leapt upon the sandy plain; A self-devoted chief--by Hector slain." "Supreme of Heroes--bravest, noblest, best! Thy matchless courage I bewail no more, 50 Which[3] then, when tens of thousands were deprest By doubt, propelled thee to the fatal shore; Thou found'st--and I forgive thee--here thou art-- A nobler counsellor than my poor heart. "But thou, though capable of sternest deed, 55 Wert kind as resolute, and good as brave; And he, whose power restores thee, hath decreed Thou should'st elude[4] the malice of the grave: Redundant are thy locks, thy lips as fair As when their breath enriched Thessalian air. 60 "No Spectre greets me,--no vain Shadow this; Come, blooming Hero, place thee by my side! Give, on this well known couch, one nuptial kiss To me, this day, a second time thy bride!" Jove frowned in heaven: the conscious Parcæ threw Upon those roseate lips a Stygian hue. 66