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The Iliad of Homer - Get a Free Blog

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An only son, once comfort <strong>of</strong> our<br />

pains,<br />

Sad product now <strong>of</strong> hapless love,<br />

remains!<br />

Never to manly age that son shall<br />

rise,<br />

Or with increasing graces glad my<br />

eyes:<br />

For Ilion now (her great defender<br />

slain)<br />

Shall sink a smoking ruin on the<br />

plain.<br />

Who now protects her wives with<br />

guardian care?<br />

Who saves her infants from the<br />

rage <strong>of</strong> war?<br />

Now hostile fleets must waft those<br />

infants o'er<br />

(Those wives must wait them) to a<br />

foreign shore:<br />

Thou too, my son, to barbarous<br />

climes shall go,

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