text: ] The stately walls of Troy had sunken Her towers and temples strew'd the soil; The sons of Hellas victory-drunken Richly laden with the spoil Are on their lofty barks reclin'd Along the Hellespontine strand; A gleesome freight the favouring wind Shall bear to Greece's glorious land; And gleesome sounds the chaunted strain As towards the household altars now Each bark inclines the painted prow-- For Home shall smile again! And there the Trojan women weeping Sit ranged in many a length'ning row; Their heedless locks dishevell'd sweeping Adown the wan cheeks worn with woe