The Iliad

by Homer

"Turn here your steps, and here your eyes employ, Ye wretched daughters, and ye sons of Troy! If e'er ye rush'd in crowds, with vast delight, To hail your hero glorious from the fight, Now meet him dead, and let your sorrows flow; Your common triumph, and your common woe."

The fate I caused, for ever I bemoan; Sad Helen has no friend, now thou art gone! Through Troy's wide streets abandon'd shall I roam! In Troy deserted, as abhorr'd at home!"