Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922.
An Early ChristianRobert Barnabas Brough (18281860)
C
His laws, not yet a code, were follow’d still
By sightless Pagans in the dark forlorn,
Groping toward the light, as blind men will:
Thousands of years ago men dared to die
Loving their enemies—and wonder’d why!
Of brave Achilles brooding o’er the corse
Of Hector sacrificed—less to his rage
Than iron custom’s law, without remorse
Claiming revenge for mild Patroclus slain—
Can doubt he wish’d great Hector lived again?
Whose noble soul he had to Hades sent.
Why—was Patroclus gainer, if they knew?
Methinks I see Achilles in his tent
Beating his breast and twitching at his hair,
Wanting a few words only—the Lord’s Prayer!
Rejoiced when I am told the good old man
Comes with his simple fatherly appeal
For Hector’s body—pointing out a plan
Of kindliness, atonement, and of peace,
That in Achilles’ breast hate’s strife may cease.
To turn him from revenge’s irksome path;
Like a worn seaman who descries the day
After a night-watch ’mid the tempest’s wrath.
Methinks I see him in his huge arms bear
Great Hector’s body, with admiring care,
Convey it thro’ the sleeping camp with glee,
With sense of lightness, new and wonderful,
To grateful Priam’s car. ‘What can it be,’
—I hear him ask—‘thus makes my bosom glow,
Showing such weakness to a fallen foe?’