The Captive Trojan Maiden Lyrics

Breeze, breeze of the sea
Who the wave-passers bearest home

Swift and unwearied over the billows' foam
Ah! Whither lead's thou me
Grief-worn? whose house must have
This thing - a captured slave

Spear-pierced to her undoing
By Argive hand!

Ah, sorrow for the young
For those whose life was long
For all the land
A heap of smoking ruin

And within my country
I shall be a slave
'Scaping the chambers
of the grave