Helen of Troy
XXIX.

Andrew Lan

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Then Paris was the first to rush on him,

With spear aloft in his strong hand to smite,

And through the monster pierced the point; and dim

The flame fell in his eyes, and all his might

With his last cry went forth; forgetting fight,

Forgetting strength, he fell, and gladly then

They gather'd round, and dealt with him aright;

Then left his body with the serving men.

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