"The wished-for wind was given:--I then revolved The oracle, upon the silent sea;[9] And, if no worthier led the way, resolved That, of a thousand vessels, mine should be The foremost prow in pressing to the strand,-- 125 Mine the first blood that tinged the Trojan sand. "Yet bitter, oft-times bitter, was the pang When of thy loss I thought, belovèd Wife! On thee too fondly did my memory hang, And on the joys we shared in mortal life,-- 130 The paths which we had trod--these fountains, flowers; My new-planned cities, and unfinished towers. "But should suspense permit the Foe to cry, 'Behold they tremble!--haughty their array, Yet of their number no one dares to die?' 135 In soul I swept the indignity away: Old frailties then recurred:--but lofty thought, In act embodied, my deliverance wrought. "And Thou, though strong in love, art all too weak In reason, in self-government, too slow; 140 I counsel thee by fortitude to seek Our blest re-union in the shades below. The invisible world with thee hath sympathised; Be thy affections raised and solemnised. "Learn, by a mortal yearning, to ascend 145 Seeking[10] a higher object. Love was given, Encouraged, sanctioned, chiefly for that[11] end; For this the passion to excess was driven-- That self might be annulled; her bondage prove The fetters of a dream, opposed to love."-- 150 Aloud she shrieked! for Hermes re-appears! Round the dear Shade she would have clung--'tis vain: The hours are past--too brief had they been years; And him no mortal effort can detain: Swift, toward the realms that know not earthly day, 155 He through the portal takes his silent way, And on the palace-floor a lifeless corse She lay. Thus, all in vain exhorted and reproved, She perished; and, as for a wilful crime, By the just Gods whom no weak pity moved, 160 Was doomed to wear out her appointed time, Apart from happy Ghosts, that gather flowers[12] Of blissful quiet 'mid unfading bowers. --Yet tears to human suffering are due; And mortal hopes defeated and o'erthrown 165 Are mourned by man, and not by man alone, As fondly he believes.--Upon the side Of Hellespont (such faith was entertained) A knot of spiry trees for ages grew From out the tomb of him for whom she died; 170 And ever, when such stature they had gained That Ilium's walls were subject to their view, The trees' tall summits withered at the sight; A constant interchange of growth and blight![C]