Şiir 68a
Grecian, farèd in hosts forth of their hearths and their homes,
Lest with a stolen punk with fullest of pleasure should Paris
Fairly at leisure and ease sleep in the pacific bed.
Such was the hapless chance, most beautiful Laodamia,
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Tare fro’ thee dearer than life, dearer than spirit itself,
Him, that husband, whose love in so mighty a whirlpool of passion
Whelmed thee absorbed and plunged deep in its gulfy abyss,
E’en as the Grecians tell hard by Phenéus of Cylléne
Drained was the marish and dried, forming the fattest of soils,
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Whenas in days long done to delve through marrow of mountains
Daréd, falsing his sire, Amphtryóniades;
What time sure of his shafts he smote Stymphalian monsters
Slaying their host at the hest dealt by a lord of less worth,
So might the gateway of Heaven be trodden by more of the godheads,
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Nor might Hébé abide longer to maidenhood doomed.
Yet was the depth of thy love far deeper than deepest of marish
Which the hard mistress’s yoke taught him so tamely to bear;
Never was head so dear to a grandsire wasted by life-tide
Whenas one daughter alone a grandson so tardy had reared,
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Who being found against hope to inherit riches of forbears