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lord with them, a final hand at last prevailed to end that long fought war. Both Troy and Priam fell, and Priam's wretched wife lost all she had, until at last she loings frightened foreign lands, where the long Hellespont is narrowed down. Great Troy was burning: while the fire still raged, Jove's altar drank old Priam's scanty bved by a prosperous breeze, resound and wave— the Trojan women cry,—“Farewell to Troy! Ah, we are hurried off! ” and, falling down, they kiss the soil, and leave the om her head, a meager gift, her white hair and her tears. Across the strait from Troy, there is a land claimed by Bistonian men, and in that land was a rich palace, b Phrygian king in secret gave his youngest son to rear, his Polydorus, safe from Troy and war, a prudent course, if he had not sent gold arousing greed, incitement toife,— the soul of Asia's fair prosperity,; now lowest fallen in all the wreck of Troy. The conquering Ulysses only claimed her his because she had brought Hector f
to her proffered breast. On failing knees she sank down to the earth; but still maintained a countenance undaunted to the last: and, even unto death, it was her care to cover all that ought to be concealed, and save the value of chaste modesty. The Trojan matrons took her and recalled, lamenting, all the sons of Priam dead, the wealth of blood one house had shed for all. And they bewailed the chaste Polyxena and you, her mother, only lately called a royal mother and a royal wife,— the soul of Asia's fair prosperity,; now lowest fallen in all the wreck of Troy. The conquering Ulysses only claimed her his because she had brought Hector forth: and Hector hardly found a master for his mother. She continued to embrace the body of a soul so brave, and shed her tears, as she had shed them often before for country lost, for sons, for royal mate. She bathed her daughter's wounds with tears and kissed them with her lips and once more beat her breast. Her white hair streamed down in the clotting
Hellespont (Turkey) (search for this): book 13, card 399
le, and for the land of Thoas, famed afar, those regions infamous in olden days, where women slew their husbands. So he went that he might capture and bring back with him the arrows of brave Hercules. When these were given back to the Greeks, their lord with them, a final hand at last prevailed to end that long fought war. Both Troy and Priam fell, and Priam's wretched wife lost all she had, until at last she lost her human form. Her savage barkings frightened foreign lands, where the long Hellespont is narrowed down. Great Troy was burning: while the fire still raged, Jove's altar drank old Priam's scanty blood. The priestess of Apollo then, alas! Was dragged by her long hair, while up towards heaven she lifted supplicating hands in vain. The Trojan matrons, clinging while they could to burning temples and ancestral gods, victorious Greeks drag off as welcome spoil. Astyanax was hurled down from the very tower from which he often had looked forth and seen his father, by his mother poi
Thrace (Greece) (search for this): book 13, card 399
grave she left some white hair taken from her head, a meager gift, her white hair and her tears. Across the strait from Troy, there is a land claimed by Bistonian men, and in that land was a rich palace, built there by a king named Polymnestor. To him the Phrygian king in secret gave his youngest son to rear, his Polydorus, safe from Troy and war, a prudent course, if he had not sent gold arousing greed, incitement to a crime. Soon, when the fortunes of the Trojans fell, that wicked king of Thrace took his own sword, and pierced the throat of his poor foster son and then, as if the deed could be concealed, if he removed the body, hurled the boy from a wild cliff into the waves below. Until the sea might be more calm, and gales of wind might be subdued, Atrides moored his fleet of ships upon the Thracian shore; there, from wide gaping earth, Achilles rose, as large as when he lived, with look as fierce, as when his sword once threatened Agamemnon. “Forgetting me do you depart, O Greeks
Lemnos (Greece) (search for this): book 13, card 399
The conqueror, Ulysses, now set sail, for Lemnos, country of Hypsipyle, and for the land of Thoas, famed afar, those regions infamous in olden days, where women slew their husbands. So he went that he might capture and bring back with him the arrows of brave Hercules. When these were given back to the Greeks, their lord with them, a final hand at last prevailed to end that long fought war. Both Troy and Priam fell, and Priam's wretched wife lost all she had, until at last she lost her human form. Her savage barkings frightened foreign lands, where the long Hellespont is narrowed down. Great Troy was burning: while the fire still raged, Jove's altar drank old Priam's scanty blood. The priestess of Apollo then, alas! Was dragged by her long hair, while up towards heaven she lifted supplicating hands in vain. The Trojan matrons, clinging while they could to burning temples and ancestral gods, victorious Greeks drag off as welcome spoil. Astyanax was hurled down from the very tower fro