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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538108" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Oenone</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On the holy mount of Ida,<br>Where the pine and cypress grow,<br>Sate a young and lovely woman,<br>Weeping ever, weeping low.<br>Drearily throughout the forest<br>Did the winds of autumn blow,<br>And the clouds above were flying,<br>And Scamander rolled below.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Faithless Paris! cruel Paris!'<br>Thus the poor deserted spake-<br>'Wherefore thus so strangely leave me?<br>Why thy loving bride forsake?<br>Why no tender word at parting?<br>Why no kiss, no farewell take?<br>Would that I could but forget thee-<br>Would this throbbing heart might break!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Is my face no longer blooming?<br>Are my eyes no longer bright?<br>Ah! my tears have made them dimmer,<br>And my cheeks are pale and white.<br>I have wept since early morning,<br>I will weep the livelong night;<br>Now I long for sullen darkness,<br>As I once have longed for light.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Paris! canst thou then be cruel?<br>Fair, and young, and brave thou art-<br>Can it be that in thy bosom<br>Lies so cold, so hard a heart?<br>Children were we bred together-<br>She who bore me suckled thee;<br>I have been thine old companion,<br>When thou hadst no more but me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I have watched thee in thy slumbers,<br>When the shadow of a dream<br>Passed across thy smiling features,<br>Like the ripple of a stream;<br>And so sweetly were the visions<br>Pictured there with lively grace,<br>That I half could read their import<br>By the changes on thy face.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'When I sang of Ariadne,<br>Sang the old and mournful tale,<br>How her faithless lover, Theseus,<br>Left her to lament and wail;<br>Then thine eyes would fill and glisten,<br>Her complaint could soften thee:<br>Thou hast wept for Ariadne-<br>Theseus' self might weep for me!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Thou may'st find another maiden<br>With a fairer face than mine-<br>With a gayer voice, and sweeter,<br>And a spirit liker thine:<br>For if e'er my beauty bound thee,<br>Lost and broken is the spell;<br>But thou canst not find another<br>That will love thee half so well.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O thou hollow ship that bearest<br>Paris o'er the faithless deep,<br>Wouldst thou leave him on some island,<br>Where alone the waters weep?<br>Where no human foot is moulded<br>In the wet and yellow sand-<br>Leave him there, thou hollow vessel!<br>Leave him on that lonely land!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Then his heart will surely soften,<br>When his foolish hopes decay,<br>And his older love rekindle,<br>As the new one dies away.<br>Visionary hills will haunt him,<br>Rising from the glassy sea,<br>And his thoughts will wander homewards<br>Unto Ida and to me.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'O! that like a little swallow<br>I could reach that lonely spot!<br>All his errors would be pardoned,<br>All the weary past forgot.<br>Never should he wander from me-<br>Never should he more depart,<br>For these arms would be his prison,<br>And his home would be my heart.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus lamented fair Oenone,<br>Weeping ever, weeping low,<br>On the holy mount of Ida,<br>Where the pine and cypress grow.<br>In the self-same hour Cassandra<br>Shrieked her prophecy of woe,<br>And into the Spartan dwelling<br>Did the faithless Paris go.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Edmondstoune+Aytoun">William Edmondstoune Aytoun</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=538108" data-title="Oenone de William Edmondstoune Aytoun" data-description="On the holy mount of Ida,
Where the pine and cypress grow,
Sate a young and lovely woman,
Weeping ever, weeping low.
Drearily throughout the forest
Did the winds of autumn blow,
And the clouds above were flying,
And Scamander rolled below.

'Faith..."></div>
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