The spear and death hence raged around,
Hence were my mansions levelled with the ground;
Staining with tears Eurotas’ tide,
Too deeply grieved to share the victor’s pride,
The Spartan virgin too in vain
Bewails her favoured youth untimely slain,
While, sprinkling ashes o’er their vest
And hoary head, the matrons bend
O’er their sons’ urns; their groans to Heaven ascend,
They tear their cheeks, and beat their miserable breast.