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HOME they brought her warrior dead: She nor swoon'd, nor utter'd cry: All her maidens, watching, said,

"She must weep or she will die."

Then they praised him, soft and low, Call'd him worthy to be loved, Truest friend and noblest foe;

Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stept,
Took the face-cloth from the face ;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,

Set his child upon her knee

Like summer tempest came her tears— "Sweet my child, I live for thee."

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VI.

My dream had never died or lived again.
As in some mystic middle state I lay;
Seeing I saw not, hearing not I heard :
Tho', if I saw not, yet they told me all
So often that I speak as having seen.

For so it seem'd, or so they said to me,

That all things grew more tragic and more strange;
That when our side was vanquish'd and my cause
For ever lost, there went up a great cry,

The Prince is slain. My father heard and ran
In on the lists, and there unlaced my casque
And grovell'd on my body, and after him.
Came Psyche, sorrowing for Aglaïa.

But high upon the palace Ida stood

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