@3His late loss the wiveless Higs in order Everywhere bewails to friends, to strangers; Tells them how by night a youngster armed Sought his wife@1 (@3as hand in hand he held her@1) @3With drawn sword to force; she cried, he mainly Roaring ran for aid, but@1 (@3ah@1), @3returning, Fled was with the prize the beauty-forcer, Whom in vain he seeks, he threats, he follows. Changed is Helen, Helen hugs the stranger Safe as Paris in the Greek triumphing. Therewith his reports to tears he turneth, Pierced through with the lovely dame's remembrance; Straight he sighs, he raves, his hair he teareth, Forcing pity still by fresh lamenting. Cease, unworthy, worthy of thy fortunes. Thou that couldst so fair a prize deliver, For fear unregarded, undefended, Hadst no heart I think, I know no liver.@1 |