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ANDROMACHE.
A TOUCH upon my shoulder, a kiss upon my hair,
And then the world was empty, and darkness everywhere,
Except where in the dimness, a ruby-eyed Despair
Sat glaring, glaring at me, and calling from her lair :
"Andromache, Andromache,"
The evil gods will follow where Hector heads the fray,
It irks them that a mortal should nobler be than they;
I see their airy weapons,- already poised to slay,
I hear their backward whispers, as tauntingly they say :
"Andromache, Andromache."
