Forth from thy bed, nor gavest me precious word
  To be remember’d day and night with tears. 
    So spake she weeping, whom her maidens all
  With sighs accompanied, and her complaint 940
  Mingled with sobs Hecuba next began. 
    Ah Hector! dearest to thy mother’s heart
  Of all her sons, much must the Gods have loved
  Thee living, whom, though dead, they thus preserve. 
  What son soever of our house beside 945
  Achilles took, over the barren deep
  To Samos, Imbrus, or to Lemnos girt
  With rocks inhospitable, him he sold;
  But thee, by his dread spear of life deprived,
  He dragg’d and dragg’d around Patroclus’ tomb, 950
  As if to raise again his friend to life
  Whom thou hadst vanquish’d; yet he raised him not. 
  But as for thee, thou liest here with dew
  Besprinkled, fresh as a young plant,[18] and more
  Resemblest some fair youth by gentle shafts 955
  Of Phoebus pierced, than one in battle slain. 
    So spake the Queen, exciting in all hearts
  Sorrow immeasurable, after whom
  Thus Helen, third, her lamentation pour’d.
    [19]Ah dearer far than all my brothers else 960
  Of Priam’s house! for being Paris’ spouse,
  Who brought me (would I had first died!) to Troy,
  I call thy brothers mine; since forth I came
  From Sparta, it is now the twentieth year,
  Yet never heard I once hard speech from thee, 965
  Or taunt morose, but if it ever chanced,
  That of thy father’s house female or male
  Blamed me, and even if herself the Queen
  (For in the King, whate’er befell, I found
  Always a father) thou hast interposed 970
  Thy gentle temper and thy gentle speech
  To soothe them; therefore, with the same sad drops
  Thy fate, oh Hector! and my own I weep;
  For other friend within the ample bounds
  Of Ilium have I none, nor hope to hear 975
  Kind word again, with horror view’d by all. 
    So Helen spake weeping, to whom with groans
  The countless multitude replied, and thus
  Their ancient sovereign next his people charged. 
    Ye Trojans, now bring fuel home, nor fear 980
  Close ambush of the Greeks; Achilles’ self
  Gave me, at my dismission from his fleet,
  Assurance, that from hostile force secure
  We shall remain, till the twelfth dawn arise. 
    All, then, their mules and oxen to the wains 985
  Join’d speedily, and under Ilium’s walls
  Assembled numerous; nine whole days they toil’d,
  Bringing much fuel home, and when the tenth
  Bright morn, with light for human kind, arose,
  Then bearing noble Hector forth, with tears 990
  Shed copious, on the summit of the pile
  They placed him, and the fuel fired beneath.