Then he led Nireus To the hall of feasting. There they feasted In the violet fields. Three summer days and nights, It seemed, they feasted, Each summer day and night Was ten years long.
Paris and the heroes Cried to Nireus, “We loved Helen, When we were men. Now we love her still And we see her lonely, Old, and haunted By her lovers dead.
“Take to Helen Gifts from her lovers, In her old age find her And give her these: Beauty and peace And our forgiveness, And all our thanks For what she was.”
As they ceased speaking They faded from him, The island faded, Nireus was at sea. He and his men Were all grown old, Thirty years Had fallen on them.
As old men failing They came to Sparta; All unavailing Their coming was. Helen was gone And none knew whither, To search for peace Or to find release.
Over the seas In lands and islands Nireus sought her, But could not find. For the gods retire When men desire, Though it burn like fire And make men blind.
Come, you avenging Powers, who with swords Smite at the bidding of your overlords; Come, all you threatening things, who, with slant eyes, Wait to snatch spirits in the mood unwise; Come, eagle spirits, that do drink man’s blood, Hurry on smeared wings hither to your food: I, who am Prophet, give you King and Queen.
What are you raging for? Be silent, Prophet, The King is coming hither.
Tell him this: “I am the herald of a mightier King, Who bids me stand before this palace door And cry a curse on Ahab and his wife. Ahab, the dog, Ahab, the murderer, And Jezebel the harlot murderess.”
Yes, I have found thee, and before I lose thee Will speak one word. What hast thou done, thou devil, On Naboth, that most upright man of God!
An upright man is in God’s hands, O Prophet.
True, he is in God’s hands. Who sent him there?
I know not, Prophet, but if he be there, He will be much at peace.
You fiend of hell! You, who hath murdered Naboth, to exult Over his corpse, still bleeding as it is.
I have not murdered Naboth, nor do know That he is dead, nor how, nor why. Explain.
You damned him to be stoned for blasphemy.
Yes, you; or if not you, Your bloody-hearted hirelings and the priests.
The priests alone can judge of blasphemy. Which do you call my hirelings?