Issue 88, Summer 1983
Dawn at that hour
Brought on her kindly light for ill mankind.
Arousing men to labor and distress.
By now Aeneas and Tarchon had built up
Their pyres along the curving shore. On them
In the old-time ritual each bore and placed
The bodies of his men. The smoky fires
Caught underneath and hid the face of heaven
In a tall gloom. Round pyres as they blazed
Troops harnessed in bright armor marched three times
In parade formation, and the cavalry
Swept about the sad cremation flame
Three times, while calling out their desolate cries.
Tears fell upon the ground, fell upon armor.
High in air rose the wild yells of men.