Hector And Andromache.

A poem by Friedrich Schiller

[This and the following poem are, with some alterations, introduced in the Play of "The Robbers."]

ANDROMACHE.
Will Hector leave me for the fatal plain,
Where, fierce with vengeance for Patroclus slain,
Stalks Peleus' ruthless son?
Who, when thou glid'st amid the dark abodes,
To hurl the spear and to revere the gods,
Shall teach thine orphan one?

HECTOR.
Woman and wife beloved cease thy tears;
My soul is nerved the war-clang in my ears!
Be mine in life to stand
Troy's bulwark! fighting for our hearths, to go
In death, exulting to the streams below,
Slain for my fatherland!

ANDROMACHE.
No more I hear thy martial footsteps fall
Thine arms shall hang, dull trophies, on the wall
Fallen the stem of Troy!
Thou goest where slow Cocytus wanders where
Love sinks in Lethe, and the sunless air
Is dark to light and joy!

HECTOR.
Longing and thought yes, all I feel and think
May in the silent sloth of Lethe sink,
But my love not!
Hark, the wild swarm is at the walls! I hear!
Gird on my sword Beloved one, dry the tear
Lethe for love is not!

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