Helen of Troy
XII.

Andrew Lan

Settings
ScrollingScrolling

Yet even there in peace she might not be:

There was a nymph, OEnone, in the hills,

The daughter of a River-God was she,

Of Cebren,--that the mountain silence fills

With murmur'd music, for the countless rills

Of Ida meet him, dancing to the plain, -

Her Paris wooed, yet ignorant of ills,

Among the shepherd's huts, nor wooed in vain.

This book is provided by FunNovel Novel Book | Fan Fiction Novel [Beautiful Free Novel Book]

Last Next Contents
Bookshelf ADD Settings
Reviews Add a review
Chapter loading