... and Helen's murderous wrong, Wrought me this woe; of her these tokens tell. For how that last night in false hope we passed, Thou knowest,—ah, too well we both recall! When up the steep of Troy the fateful horse Came climbing, pregnant with fierce men-at-arms, 't was she, accurst, who led the Phrygian dames In choric dance and false bacchantic song, And, waving from the midst a lofty br...