"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.

He prest the blossom of his lips to mine,

And added, "This was cast upon the board,

When all the full-faced presence of the Gods

Ranged in the halls of Peleus; whereupon

Rose feud, with question unto whom 'twere due:

But light-foot Iris brought it yestereve,

Delivering, that to me, by common voice,

Elected umpire, Heré comes to-day, Pallas and Aphrodité, claiming each This meed of fairest. Thou, within the cave

Behind yon whispering tuft of oldest pine,

Mayst well behold them unbeheld, unheard

Hear all, and see thy Paris judge of Gods.'

"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die.

It was the deep midnoon: one silvery

cloud

"Dear mother Ida, harken ere I die. She ceased, and Paris held the costly fruit

Out at arm's-length, so much the thought of power

Flattered his spirit; but Pallas where she stood

Somewhat apart, her clear and bared limbs

O'erthwarted with the brazenheaded spear

Upon her pearly shoulder leaning cold,

The while, above, her full and earnest eye

Over her snow-cold breast and angry cheek

Kept watch, waiting decision, made reply.

"Self-reverence, self-knowledge, self-control,

These three alone lead life to sovereign power.

Yet not for power (power of herself Would come uncalled for), but to live by law,

Acting the law we live by without fear;

And, because right is right, to follow right

Were wisdom in the scorn of consequence.'