For ten long years the Argive leaguer lay
Round Priam's folk, and wrought them many woes,
While, as a lion crouch'd above his prey,
The Trojans yet made head against their foes;
And as the swift sea-water ebbs and flows
Between the Straits of Helle and the main,
Even so the tide of battle sank and rose,
And fill'd with waifs of war the Ilian plain.
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