Red-fire and Flame, Tumult and Panic-fear, His car-steeds, bare him down into the fight, The coursers which to roaring Boreas Grim-eyed Erinnys bare, coursers that breathed Life-blasting flame: groaned all the shivering air, As battleward they sped. Swiftly he came To Troy: loud rang the earth beneath the feet Of that wild team. Into the battle's heart Tossing his massy spear, he came; with a shout He cheered the Trojans on to face the foe.
They heard, and marvelled at that wondrous cry, Not seeing the God's immortal form, nor steeds, Veiled in dense mist. But the wise prophet-soul Of Helenus knew the voice divine that leapt Unto the Trojans' ears, they knew not whence, And with glad heart to the fleeing host he cried:
"O cravens, wherefore fear Achilles' son, Though ne'er so brave? He is mortal even as we;
His strength is not as Ares' strength, who is come A very present help in our sore need.
That was his shout far-pealing, bidding us Fight on against the Argives. Let your hearts Be strong, O friends: let courage fill your breasts.
No mightier battle-helper can draw nigh To Troy than he. Who is of more avail For war than Ares, when he aideth men Hard-fighting? Lo, to our help he cometh now!
On to the fight! Cast to the winds your fears!"
They fled no more, they faced the Argive men, As hounds, that mid the copses fled at first, Turn them about to face and fight the wolf, Spurred by the chiding of their shepherd-lord;
So turned the sons of Troy again to war, Casting away their fear. Man leapt on man Valiantly fighting; loud their armour clashed Smitten with swords, with lances, and with darts.
Spears plunged into men's flesh: dread Ares drank His fill of blood: struck down fell man on man, As Greek and Trojan fought. In level poise The battle-balance hung. As when young men In hot haste prune a vineyard with the steel, And each keeps pace with each in rivalry, Since all in strength and age be equal-matched;
So did the awful scales of battle hang Level: all Trojan hearts beat high, and firm Stood they in trust on aweless Ares' might, While the Greeks trusted in Achilles' son.
Ever they slew and slew: stalked through the midst Deadly Enyo, her shoulders and her hands Blood-splashed, while fearful sweat streamed from her limbs.
Revelling in equal fight, she aided none, Lest Thetis' or the War-god's wrath be stirred.
Then Neoptolemus slew one far-renowned, Perimedes, who had dwelt by Smintheus' grove;
Next Cestrus died, Phalerus battle-staunch, Perilaus the strong, Menalcas lord of spears, Whom Iphianassa bare by the haunted foot Of Cilla to the cunning craftsman Medon.
In the home-land afar the sire abode, And never kissed his son's returning head:
For that fair home and all his cunning works Did far-off kinsmen wrangle o'er his grave.
Deiphobus slew Lycon battle-staunch:
The lance-head pierced him close above the groin, And round the long spear all his bowels gushed out.
Aeneas smote down Dymas, who erewhile In Aulis dwelt, and followed unto Troy Arcesilaus, and saw never more The dear home-land. Euryalus hurled a dart, And through Astraeus' breast the death-winged point Flew, shearing through the breathways of man's life;
And all that lay within was drenched with blood.
And hard thereby great-souled Agenor slew Hippomenes, hero Teucer's comrade staunch, With one swift thrust 'twixt shoulder and neck: his soul Rushed forth in blood; death's night swept over him.
Grief for his comrade slain on Teucer fell;
He strained his bow, a swift-winged shaft he sped, But smote him not, for slightly Agenor swerved.
Yet nigh him Deiophontes stood; the shaft Into his left eye plunged, passed through the ball, And out through his right ear, because the Fates Whither they willed thrust on the bitter barbs.
Even as in agony he leapt full height, Yet once again the archer's arrow hissed:
It pierced his throat, through the neck-sinews cleft Unswerving, and his hard doom came on him.
So man to man dealt death; and joyed the Fates And Doom, and fell Strife in her maddened glee Shouted aloud, and Ares terribly Shouted in answer, and with courage thrilled The Trojans, and with panic fear the Greeks, And shook their reeling squadrons. But one man He scared not, even Achilles' son; he abode, And fought undaunted, slaying foes on foes.
As when a young lad sweeps his hand around Flies swarming over milk, and nigh the bowl Here, there they lie, struck dead by that light touch, And gleefully the child still plies the work;
So stern Achilles' glorious scion joyed Over the slain, and recked not of the God Who spurred the Trojans on: man after man Tasted his vengeance of their charging host.
Even as a giant mountain-peak withstands On-rushing hurricane-blasts, so he abode Unquailing. Ares at his eager mood Grew wroth, and would have cast his veil of cloud Away, and met him face to face in fight, But now Athena from Olympus swooped To forest-mantled Ida. Quaked the earth And Xanthus' murmuring streams; so mightily She shook them: terror-stricken were the souls Of all the Nymphs, adread for Priam's town.
From her immortal armour flashed around The hovering lightnings; fearful serpents breathed Fire from her shield invincible; the crest Of her great helmet swept the clouds. And now She was at point to close in sudden fight With Ares; but the mighty will of Zeus Daunted them both, from high heaven thundering His terrors. Ares drew back from the war, For manifest to him was Zeus's wrath.
To wintry Thrace he passed; his haughty heart Reeked no more of the Trojans. In the plain Of Troy no more stayed Pallas; she was gone To hallowed Athens. But the armies still Strove in the deadly fray; and fainted now The Trojans' prowess; but all battle-fain The Argives pressed on these as they gave ground.
