Then Helen, daughter of Zens, turned to new thoughts. Presently she cast a drug into the wine whereof they drank, —a drug to lull all pain and anger, and bring forgetfulness of every sorrow.

BUCHER AND LANG’S HOMER.

GIVE me the potent draught that Helen poured
To lull Telemachus! Make me forget
All present peril, all old sins, and let
Me look toward peace. Long threat’ning, Fate’s sharp sword
Before my eyes has hung, — about me roared
The battle’s clamor. Sore I am beset;
New fears and ancient pains together met
Assail me, who for peace have long implored.
Give me, at last, to drink, and let them flee,
The baffled ghosts that watch me sullenly,
To those waste fields that waiting shadows keep;
And down some waveless tide, in quiet deep,
As set of day upon a quiet sea,
Oh, let mo drift, and dream, and fall on sleep.
Louise Chandler Moulton.