Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). An American Anthology, 1787–1900. 1900.
By Charles EdwardThomas1714 To a Moth
P
Why, surely, thou art wondrous blest;
Right royal is this sepulchre
Fate gave thee for thy last long rest.
The spot that marks thy early tomb—
Here Paris breathes his burning love
To her who compassed Ilia’s doom.
The great Achilles moans his friend,
All careless, in his kingly rage,
Of bane or curse the gods may send.
Fierce Trojan strives with wily Greek;
And mighty lords, with tawny hair,
Deep words of war and wisdom speak.
Great warriors guard thy resting-place—
Perchance thou see’st a burning tear
Steal down Briseis’ home-turned face.
A tomb that kings might wish in vain;
About thee shines the all-seeing sun,
And roars the many-sounding main.