On many a sacred mountain-peak in spring,
For men had fell'd the pine-trees tall and brown
To fashion them curved ships for seafaring.
And still the rumour grew; for heralds came,
Old men from Argos, bearing holy boughs,
Demanding great atonement for the shame
And sore despite done Menelaus' house;
But homeward soon they turn'd their scarlet prows,
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