Helen of Troy
XXIX.

Andrew Lan

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Even as she read, by Aphrodite's will

The cloud roll'd back from Helen's memory:

She saw the city of the rifted hill,

Fair Lacedaemon, 'neath her mountain high;

She knew the swift Eurotas running by

To mix his sacred waters with the sea,

And from the garden close she heard the cry

Of her beloved child, Hermione.

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