A FRAGMENT
CASSANDRA
O bitter bridegroom who didst bear
Ruin to those that loved thee true!
O holy stream Scamander, where
With gentle nurturement I grew
In the first days, when life and love were new.
And now—and now—it seems that I must lie
In the dark land that never sees the sun;
Sing my sad songs of fruitless prophecy
By the black stream Cokytos that doth run
Through long, low hills of dreary Acheron.
CHORUS
Ah, but thy word is clear!
Even a child among men,
Even a child might see
What is lying hidden here.
Ah! I am smitten deep
To the heart with a deadly blow
At the evil fate of the maid,
At the cry of her song of woe!
Sorrows for her to bear!
Wonders for me to hear!
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