Home they brought her warrior dead: <br /> She nor swoon'd nor utter'd cry: <br /> All her maidens, watching, said, <br /> "She must weep or she will die." <br /> Then they praised him, soft and low, <br /> Call'd him worthy to be loved, <br /> Truest friend and noblest foe; <br /> Yet she neither spoke nor moved. <br /> Stole a maiden from her place, <br /> Lightly to the warrior stepped, <br /> Took the face-cloth from the face; <br /> Yet she neither moved nor wept. <br /> <br /> Rose a nurse of ninety years, <br /> Set his child upon her knee-- <br /> Like summer tempest came her tears-- <br /> "Sweet my child, I live for thee."<br /><br />Alfred Lord Tennyson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-princess-a-medley-home-they-brought-her-warr/
