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Translated, with Explanatory Notes, by Gilbert Murray.
89 pages - You are on Page 6 Poseidon Hath that old hate and deep Failed, where she lieth in her ashen sleep? Thou pitiest her? Pallas Speak first; wilt thou be one In heart with me and hand till all be done? Poseidon Yea; but lay bare thy heart. For this land's sake Thou comest, not for Hellas? Pallas I would make Mine ancient enemies laugh for joy, and bring On these Greek ships a bitter homecoming. Poseidon Swift is thy spirit's path, and strange withal, And hot thy love and hate, where'er they fall. Previous Page / First / Next Page of The Trojan Women
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