Burlington weekly free press. [volume] (Burlington, Vt.) 1866-1928, 1870-10-14
For tho Free Fress 4 Times
The Last Meeting of Paris and uf"''''



From tSe blsrr, streets where the f4lchlon
W. ore The crested charger rears and prsnces'
The eeding Psrs Is burne with c'Ie'
m, h oody rand, Poiantides,
That wieideh the arms OF hefcue'
Hath sped arrow beyond the Iances -ad rlar,
And stricken hi o. down meath the flame $40 s'' o
The Paphisn -oddees hath left him ioreFe''
sphrcdite rosy, smorous queen'
In vain h murmurs her name l1i 49,,
More shall her dove-drswn car be seen
pe turne b away 10 his agony
His blood is dripping silently; =, $500
lie kDoxet1 that Fate full soon shan sever
lis Iifa,s voung root while the branch is green.
Uence IN a,oope, for his cheek is psling
As the purple life ebbs slowly away
Hence to Gaone for his strength Is itllns-
on can II last till the break Of day
Far where Ifa's vines are murmuring,
Bv the grave where her child is stu nbering,
His firsaken bride Oft mount Is wailng-
Her hand alone can his pain allay.
He cruelly left her for another.
scorning her grief, she knew not why
But the love at her breast she may not smother,
The tear on her cheek she may not dry
For bOdiless voice is warning her,
A hoding spirit is whispering her,
sigh from Ida, her mountain mother
Isteling her that he must die.
All night hath she watched from her oaken bower
Wars fearful work on the Trojan plain,
Where Lion writhes 10 tbs foes dread power,
Her peerless warriors bleeding in vain
And ldas mounds ave echoing
With the trumpet's brazen clam0ring,
Till the flame bursts broad from dome and tower.
And the ciangor is lost in a shrek Of pain.
The destroyer losses his red wing higher
From the hlOOd-dyed skies on the flaming town,
With eyes that mock at the leapins fire
The frenzied Furies. iercer frown
Old Priams palace is lettering
Its heaven wrought pillars quivering,
Toe walls that rose TO Apollo's iyre
In ruin tumultuous thunder down
Still on the mount is Gnoae keeping
Her Vinil riIl the q rims dawn
Up Gargarus' snowy SUBMITS creeping,
flushing the nightingale wakes the faUn;
And she chaunts the words Of her prophecy,
dying he shall come to me,
Her dark ey es, touched with the fire Of weeping,
Follow the path where the night hath flown.
IL it tbs tramp of the bullocks feeding
Halftown the slope in the morning mist
Is il a VanqusGed warrior leading
His broken hand from its toll dismissed
Why starts the Dymph SO hurriedly2
Ii Is he that she loves So feryently
But the bright broad bosom s stained aud bleeding,
And the faint hand droops from the languid wrist
A with notes Of woe the wild birds hover
Over their nest when the viper is there,
En0ne bends low DER her dying lover
shrouding him deep in her glory Of hair
She struggles q moment with destiny
. Fate but spare him day for me-
\ shudder and thrill, and ali Is oser,
he dies like a star IN the morning glare.
The pine tree sohs, the poplaTs culver
The south wind weeps ir the vines above,
For their Mistress the child Of the mount and river,
tEnone, sleeps in the tssrful grove.
For relief from toll and suffering
Her soul goes forth as IN Offering
Life hath no more Of srieftO give her,
And death is sweeter than hopeless love.