Helen at Troy

dancing woman

Thousands of soldiers came for me,

A dark net of ships on a hot blue sea.

Greaved and hardened and hungry and spare,

Fighting for me though I never was theirs.

In the pale distance, back over the blue,

Thousands of wives unravel the loom,

While I stand high-towered, shamed to decree,

The depth of their grief coming home from the sea.

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