Then came the women quickly, and in dread
Gather'd round Helen, but might naught avail
To wake her; moveless as a maiden dead
That Artemis hath slain, yet nowise pale,
She lay; but Aethra did begin the wail,
And all the women with sad voice replied,
Who deem'd her pass'd unto the poplar vale
Wherein doth dread Persephone abide.
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