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DEATH OF PARIS, by             Poem Explanation     Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: In the last month of troy's beleaguerment


Upon the plain of Troy
Fierce fighting raged that day,
And men fell fast, like leaves in autumn,
In the red ruin of the fray.
Paris, the prince, was there,
His purple pallor wan,
As he fought for love and honor,
With the fierce light of battle on.
But fate was strong, and death was near,
And soon the prince was slain,
And all the glory of his fading fame
Was lost in the crimson rain.
Yet still the legend lives,
Of the prince who loved too well,
And paid the price for his desire,
In the flaming gates of Hell.
For love is sweet, but duty stern,
And often they are at war,
And heroes fall, like Paris fell,
In the glory and the gore.
So let us mourn the passing
Of the prince who loved too well,
And remember the price of honor,
In the flames of Troy's red hell






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