Book XVIII: The Grief of Achilles, and New Armour Made Him by Vulcan

Homer (about 750 BC), translated by Alexander Pope · 1720

iambic pentameter · heroic couplets · 712 lines · from The Iliad

Thus like the rage of fire the combat burns,And now it rises, now it sinks by turns.Meanwhile, where Hellespont’s broad waters flow,Stood Nestor’s son, the messenger of woe:There sat Achilles, shaded by his sails,On hoisted yards extended to the gales;Pensive he sat; for all that fate design’dRose in sad prospect to his boding mind.Thus to his soul he said: “Ah! what constrainsThe Greeks, late victors, now to quit the plains?Is this the day, which heaven so long agoOrdain’d, to sink me with the weight of woe?(So Thetis warn’d;) when by a Trojan handThe bravest of the Myrmidonian bandShould lose the light! Fulfilled is that decree;Fallen is the warrior, and Patroclus he!In vain I charged him soon to quit the plain,And warn’d to shun Hectorean force in vain!”

Thus while he thinks, Antilochus appears,And tells the melancholy tale with tears.“Sad tidings, son of Peleus! thou must hear;And wretched I, the unwilling messenger!Dead is Patroclus! For his corse they fight;His naked corse: his arms are Hector’s right.”

A sudden horror shot through all the chief,And wrapp’d his senses in the cloud of grief;Cast on the ground, with furious hands he spreadThe scorching ashes o’er his graceful head;His purple garments, and his golden hairs,Those he deforms with dust, and these he tears;On the hard soil his groaning breast he threw,And roll’d and grovell’d, as to earth he grew.The virgin captives, with disorder’d charms,(Won by his own, or by Patroclus’ arms,)Rush’d from their tents with cries; and gathering round,Beat their white breasts, and fainted on the ground:While Nestor’s son sustains a manlier part,And mourns the warrior with a warrior’s heart;Hangs on his arms, amidst his frantic woe,And oft prevents the meditated blow.

Far in the deep abysses of the main,With hoary Nereus, and the watery train,The mother-goddess from her crystal throneHeard his loud cries, and answer’d groan for groan.The circling Nereids with their mistress weep,And all the sea-green sisters of the deep.Thalia, Glauce (every watery name),Nesaea mild, and silver Spio came:Cymothoe and Cymodoce were nigh,And the blue languish of soft Alia’s eye.Their locks Actaea and Limnoria rear,Then Proto, Doris, Panope appear,Thoa, Pherusa, Doto, Melita;Agave gentle, and Amphithoe gay:Next Callianira, Callianassa showTheir sister looks; Dexamene the slow,And swift Dynamene, now cut the tides:Iaera now the verdant wave divides:Nemertes with Apseudes lifts the head,Bright Galatea quits her pearly bed;These Orythia, Clymene, attend,Maera, Amphinome, the train extend;And black Janira, and Janassa fair,And Amatheia with her amber hair.All these, and all that deep in ocean heldTheir sacred seats, the glimmering grotto fill’d;Each beat her ivory breast with silent woe,Till Thetis’ sorrows thus began to flow:

“Hear me, and judge, ye sisters of the main!How just a cause has Thetis to complain!How wretched, were I mortal, were my fate!How more than wretched in the immortal state!Sprung from my bed a godlike hero came,The bravest far that ever bore the name;Like some fair olive, by my careful handHe grew, he flourish’d and adorn’d the land!To Troy I sent him: but the fates ordainHe never, never must return again.So short a space the light of heaven to view,So short, alas! and fill’d with anguish too!Hear how his sorrows echo through the shore!I cannot ease them, but I must deplore;I go at least to bear a tender part,And mourn my loved-one with a mother’s heart.”

She said, and left the caverns of the main,All bathed in tears; the melancholy trainAttend her way. Wide-opening part the tides,While the long pomp the silver wave divides.Approaching now, they touch’d the Trojan land;Then, two by two, ascended up the strand.The immortal mother, standing close besideHer mournful offspring, to his sighs replied;Along the coast their mingled clamours ran,And thus the silver-footed dame began:

“Why mourns my son? thy late preferr’d requestThe god has granted, and the Greeks distress’d:Why mourns my son? thy anguish let me share,Reveal the cause, and trust a parent’s care.”

He, deeply groaning—“To this cureless grief,Not even the Thunderer’s favour brings relief.Patroclus—Ah!—say, goddess, can I boastA pleasure now? revenge itself is lost;Patroclus, loved of all my martial train,Beyond mankind, beyond myself is slain!Lost are those arms the gods themselves bestow’dOn Peleus; Hector bears the glorious load.Cursed be that day, when all the powers aboveThy charms submitted to a mortal love:O hadst thou still, a sister of the main,Pursued the pleasures of the watery reign:And happier Peleus, less ambitious, ledA mortal beauty to his equal bed!Ere the sad fruit of thy unhappy wombHad caused such sorrows past, and woes to come.For soon, alas! that wretched offspring slain,New woes, new sorrows, shall create again.’Tis not in fate the alternate now to give;Patroclus dead, Achilles hates to live.Let me revenge it on proud Hector’s heart,Let his last spirit smoke upon my dart;On these conditions will I breathe: till then,I blush to walk among the race of men.”

A flood of tears, at this, the goddess shed:“Ah then, I see thee dying, see thee dead!When Hector falls, thou diest.”—“Let Hector die,And let me fall! (Achilles made reply)Far lies Patroclus from his native plain!He fell, and falling, wish’d my aid in vain.Ah then, since from this miserable dayI cast all hope of my return away;Since, unrevenged, a hundred ghosts demandThe fate of Hector from Achilles’ hand;Since here, for brutal courage far renown’d,I live an idle burden to the ground,(Others in council famed for nobler skill,More useful to preserve, than I to kill,)Let me—But oh! ye gracious powers above!Wrath and revenge from men and gods remove:Far, far too dear to every mortal breast,Sweet to the soul, as honey to the taste:Gathering like vapours of a noxious kindFrom fiery blood, and darkening all the mind.Me Agamemnon urged to deadly hate;’Tis past—I quell it; I resign to fate.Yes—I will meet the murderer of my friend;Or (if the gods ordain it) meet my end.The stroke of fate the strongest cannot shun:The great Alcides, Jove’s unequall’d son,To Juno’s hate, at length resign’d his breath,And sunk the victim of all-conquering death.So shall Achilles fall! stretch’d pale and dead,No more the Grecian hope, or Trojan dread!Let me, this instant, rush into the fields,And reap what glory life’s short harvest yields.Shall I not force some widow’d dame to tearWith frantic hands her long dishevell’d hair?Shall I not force her breast to heave with sighs,And the soft tears to trickle from her eyes?Yes, I shall give the fair those mournful charms—In vain you hold me—Hence! my arms! my arms!—Soon shall the sanguine torrent spread so wide,That all shall know Achilles swells the tide.”

“My son (coerulean Thetis made reply,To fate submitting with a secret sigh,)The host to succour, and thy friends to save,Is worthy thee; the duty of the brave.But canst thou, naked, issue to the plains?Thy radiant arms the Trojan foe detains.Insulting Hector bears the spoils on high,But vainly glories, for his fate is nigh.Yet, yet awhile thy generous ardour stay;Assured, I meet thee at the dawn of day,Charged with refulgent arms (a glorious load),Vulcanian arms, the labour of a god.”

Then turning to the daughters of the main,The goddess thus dismiss’d her azure train:

“Ye sister Nereids! to your deeps descend;Haste, and our father’s sacred seat attend;I go to find the architect divine,Where vast Olympus’ starry summits shine:So tell our hoary sire”—This charge she gave:The sea-green sisters plunge beneath the wave:Thetis once more ascends the bless’d abodes,And treads the brazen threshold of the gods.

And now the Greeks from furious Hector’s force,Urge to broad Hellespont their headlong course;Nor yet their chiefs Patroclus’ body boreSafe through the tempest to the tented shore.The horse, the foot, with equal fury join’d,Pour’d on the rear, and thunder’d close behind:And like a flame through fields of ripen’d corn,The rage of Hector o’er the ranks was borne.Thrice the slain hero by the foot he drew;Thrice to the skies the Trojan clamours flew:As oft the Ajaces his assault sustain;But check’d, he turns; repuls’d, attacks again.With fiercer shouts his lingering troops he fires,Nor yields a step, nor from his post retires:So watchful shepherds strive to force, in vain,The hungry lion from a carcase slain.Even yet Patroclus had he borne away,And all the glories of the extended day,Had not high Juno from the realms of air,Secret, despatch’d her trusty messenger.The various goddess of the showery bow,Shot in a whirlwind to the shore below;To great Achilles at his ships she came,And thus began the many-colour’d dame:

“Rise, son of Peleus! rise, divinely brave!Assist the combat, and Patroclus save:For him the slaughter to the fleet they spread,And fall by mutual wounds around the dead.To drag him back to Troy the foe contends:Nor with his death the rage of Hector ends:A prey to dogs he dooms the corse to lie,And marks the place to fix his head on high.Rise, and prevent (if yet you think of fame)Thy friend’s disgrace, thy own eternal shame!”

“Who sends thee, goddess, from the ethereal skies?”Achilles thus. And Iris thus replies:

“I come, Pelides! from the queen of Jove,The immortal empress of the realms above;Unknown to him who sits remote on high,Unknown to all the synod of the sky.”“Thou comest in vain (he cries, with fury warm’d);Arms I have none, and can I fight unarm’d?Unwilling as I am, of force I stay,Till Thetis bring me at the dawn of dayVulcanian arms: what other can I wield,Except the mighty Telamonian shield?That, in my friend’s defence, has Ajax spread,While his strong lance around him heaps the dead:The gallant chief defends Menoetius’ son,And does what his Achilles should have done.”

“Thy want of arms (said Iris) well we know;But though unarm’d, yet clad in terrors, go!Let but Achilles o’er yon trench appear,Proud Troy shall tremble, and consent to fear;Greece from one glance of that tremendous eyeShall take new courage, and disdain to fly.”

She spoke, and pass’d in air. The hero rose:Her ægis Pallas o’er his shoulder throws;Around his brows a golden cloud she spread;A stream of glory flamed above his head.As when from some beleaguer’d town ariseThe smokes, high curling to the shaded skies;(Seen from some island, o’er the main afar,When men distress’d hang out the sign of war;)Soon as the sun in ocean hides his rays,Thick on the hills the flaming beacons blaze;With long-projected beams the seas are bright,And heaven’s high arch reflects the ruddy light:So from Achilles’ head the splendours rise,Reflecting blaze on blaze against the skies.Forth march’d the chief, and distant from the crowd,High on the rampart raised his voice aloud;With her own shout Minerva swells the sound;Troy starts astonish’d, and the shores rebound.As the loud trumpet’s brazen mouth from farWith shrilling clangour sounds the alarm of war,Struck from the walls, the echoes float on high,And the round bulwarks and thick towers reply;So high his brazen voice the hero rear’d:Hosts dropp’d their arms, and trembled as they heard:And back the chariots roll, and coursers bound,And steeds and men lie mingled on the ground.Aghast they see the living lightnings play,And turn their eyeballs from the flashing ray.Thrice from the trench his dreadful voice he raised,And thrice they fled, confounded and amazed.Twelve in the tumult wedged, untimely rush’dOn their own spears, by their own chariots crush’d:While, shielded from the darts, the Greeks obtainThe long-contended carcase of the slain.

A lofty bier the breathless warrior bears:Around, his sad companions melt in tears.But chief Achilles, bending down his head,Pours unavailing sorrows o’er the dead,Whom late triumphant, with his steeds and car,He sent refulgent to the field of war;(Unhappy change!) now senseless, pale, he found,Stretch’d forth, and gash’d with many a gaping wound.

Meantime, unwearied with his heavenly way,In ocean’s waves the unwilling light of dayQuench’d his red orb, at Juno’s high command,And from their labours eased the Achaian band.The frighted Trojans (panting from the war,Their steeds unharness’d from the weary car)A sudden council call’d: each chief appear’dIn haste, and standing; for to sit they fear’d.’Twas now no season for prolong’d debate;They saw Achilles, and in him their fate.Silent they stood: Polydamas at last,Skill’d to discern the future by the past,The son of Panthus, thus express’d his fears(The friend of Hector, and of equal years;The self-same night to both a being gave,One wise in council, one in action brave):

“In free debate, my friends, your sentence speak;For me, I move, before the morning break,To raise our camp: too dangerous here our post,Far from Troy walls, and on a naked coast.I deem’d not Greece so dreadful, while engagedIn mutual feuds her king and hero raged;Then, while we hoped our armies might prevailWe boldly camp’d beside a thousand sail.I dread Pelides now: his rage of mindNot long continues to the shores confined,Nor to the fields, where long in equal frayContending nations won and lost the day;For Troy, for Troy, shall henceforth be the strife,And the hard contest not for fame, but life.Haste then to Ilion, while the favouring nightDetains these terrors, keeps that arm from fight.If but the morrow’s sun behold us here,That arm, those terrors, we shall feel, not fear;And hearts that now disdain, shall leap with joy,If heaven permit them then to enter Troy.Let not my fatal prophecy be true,Nor what I tremble but to think, ensue.Whatever be our fate, yet let us tryWhat force of thought and reason can supply;Let us on counsel for our guard depend;The town her gates and bulwarks shall defend.When morning dawns, our well-appointed powers,Array’d in arms, shall line the lofty towers.Let the fierce hero, then, when fury calls,Vent his mad vengeance on our rocky walls,Or fetch a thousand circles round the plain,Till his spent coursers seek the fleet again:So may his rage be tired, and labour’d down!And dogs shall tear him ere he sack the town.”

“Return! (said Hector, fired with stern disdain)What! coop whole armies in our walls again?Was’t not enough, ye valiant warriors, say,Nine years imprison’d in those towers ye lay?Wide o’er the world was Ilion famed of oldFor brass exhaustless, and for mines of gold:But while inglorious in her walls we stay’d,Sunk were her treasures, and her stores decay’d;The Phrygians now her scatter’d spoils enjoy,And proud Mæonia wastes the fruits of Troy.Great Jove at length my arms to conquest calls,And shuts the Grecians in their wooden walls,Darest thou dispirit whom the gods incite?Flies any Trojan? I shall stop his flight.To better counsel then attention lend;Take due refreshment, and the watch attend.If there be one whose riches cost him care,Forth let him bring them for the troops to share;’Tis better generously bestow’d on those,Than left the plunder of our country’s foes.Soon as the morn the purple orient warms,Fierce on yon navy will we pour our arms.If great Achilles rise in all his might,His be the danger: I shall stand the fight.Honour, ye gods! or let me gain or give;And live he glorious, whosoe’er shall live!Mars is our common lord, alike to all;And oft the victor triumphs, but to fall.”

The shouting host in loud applauses join’d;So Pallas robb’d the many of their mind;To their own sense condemn’d, and left to chooseThe worst advice, the better to refuse.

While the long night extends her sable reign,Around Patroclus mourn’d the Grecian train.Stern in superior grief Pelides stood;Those slaughtering arms, so used to bathe in blood,Now clasp his clay-cold limbs: then gushing startThe tears, and sighs burst from his swelling heart.The lion thus, with dreadful anguish stung,Roars through the desert, and demands his young;When the grim savage, to his rifled denToo late returning, snuffs the track of men,And o’er the vales and o’er the forest bounds;His clamorous grief the bellowing wood resounds.So grieves Achilles; and, impetuous, ventsTo all his Myrmidons his loud laments.

“In what vain promise, gods! did I engage,When to console Menoetius’ feeble age,I vowed his much-loved offspring to restore,Charged with rich spoils, to fair Opuntia’s shore?But mighty Jove cuts short, with just disdain,The long, long views of poor designing man!One fate the warrior and the friend shall strike,And Troy’s black sands must drink our blood alike:Me too a wretched mother shall deplore,An aged father never see me more!Yet, my Patroclus! yet a space I stay,Then swift pursue thee on the darksome way.Ere thy dear relics in the grave are laid,Shall Hector’s head be offer’d to thy shade;That, with his arms, shall hang before thy shrine;And twelve, the noblest of the Trojan line,Sacred to vengeance, by this hand expire;Their lives effused around thy flaming pyre.Thus let me lie till then! thus, closely press’d,Bathe thy cold face, and sob upon thy breast!While Trojan captives here thy mourners stay,Weep all the night and murmur all the day:Spoils of my arms, and thine; when, wasting wide,Our swords kept time, and conquer’d side by side.”

He spoke, and bade the sad attendants roundCleanse the pale corse, and wash each honour’d wound.A massy caldron of stupendous frameThey brought, and placed it o’er the rising flame:Then heap’d the lighted wood; the flame dividesBeneath the vase, and climbs around the sides:In its wide womb they pour the rushing stream;The boiling water bubbles to the brim.The body then they bathe with pious toil,Embalm the wounds, anoint the limbs with oil,High on a bed of state extended laid,And decent cover’d with a linen shade;Last o’er the dead the milk-white veil they threw;That done, their sorrows and their sighs renew.

Meanwhile to Juno, in the realms above,(His wife and sister,) spoke almighty Jove.“At last thy will prevails: great Peleus’ sonRises in arms: such grace thy Greeks have won.Say (for I know not), is their race divine,And thou the mother of that martial line?”

“What words are these? (the imperial dame replies,While anger flash’d from her majestic eyes)Succour like this a mortal arm might lend,And such success mere human wit attend:And shall not I, the second power above,Heaven’s queen, and consort of the thundering Jove,Say, shall not I one nation’s fate command,Not wreak my vengeance on one guilty land?”

So they. Meanwhile the silver-footed dameReach’d the Vulcanian dome, eternal frame!High-eminent amid the works divine,Where heaven’s far-beaming brazen mansions shine.There the lame architect the goddess found,Obscure in smoke, his forges flaming round,While bathed in sweat from fire to fire he flew;And puffing loud, the roaring billows blew.That day no common task his labour claim’d:Full twenty tripods for his hall he framed,That placed on living wheels of massy gold,(Wondrous to tell,) instinct with spirit roll’dFrom place to place, around the bless’d abodesSelf-moved, obedient to the beck of gods:For their fair handles now, o’erwrought with flowers,In moulds prepared, the glowing ore he pours.Just as responsive to his thought the frameStood prompt to move, the azure goddess came:Charis, his spouse, a grace divinely fair,(With purple fillets round her braided hair,)Observed her entering; her soft hand she press’d,And, smiling, thus the watery queen address’d:

“What, goddess! this unusual favour draws?All hail, and welcome! whatsoe’er the cause;Till now a stranger, in a happy hourApproach, and taste the dainties of the bower.”

High on a throne, with stars of silver graced,And various artifice, the queen she placed;A footstool at her feet: then calling, said,“Vulcan, draw near, ’tis Thetis asks your aid.”“Thetis (replied the god) our powers may claim,An ever-dear, an ever-honour’d name!When my proud mother hurl’d me from the sky,(My awkward form, it seems, displeased her eye,)She, and Eurynome, my griefs redress’d,And soft received me on their silver breast.Even then these arts employ’d my infant thought:Chains, bracelets, pendants, all their toys, I wrought.Nine years kept secret in the dark abode,Secure I lay, conceal’d from man and god:Deep in a cavern’d rock my days were led;The rushing ocean murmur’d o’er my head.Now, since her presence glads our mansion, say,For such desert what service can I pay?Vouchsafe, O Thetis! at our board to shareThe genial rites, and hospitable fare;While I the labours of the forge forego,And bid the roaring bellows cease to blow.”

Then from his anvil the lame artist rose;Wide with distorted legs oblique he goes,And stills the bellows, and (in order laid)Locks in their chests his instruments of trade.Then with a sponge the sooty workman dress’dHis brawny arms embrown’d, and hairy breast.With his huge sceptre graced, and red attire,Came halting forth the sovereign of the fire:The monarch’s steps two female forms uphold,That moved and breathed in animated gold;To whom was voice, and sense, and science givenOf works divine (such wonders are in heaven!)On these supported, with unequal gait,He reach’d the throne where pensive Thetis sate;There placed beside her on the shining frame,He thus address’d the silver-footed dame:

“Thee, welcome, goddess! what occasion calls(So long a stranger) to these honour’d walls?’Tis thine, fair Thetis, the command to lay,And Vulcan’s joy and duty to obey.”

To whom the mournful mother thus replies:(The crystal drops stood trembling in her eyes:)“O Vulcan! say, was ever breast divineSo pierced with sorrows, so o’erwhelm’d as mine?Of all the goddesses, did Jove prepareFor Thetis only such a weight of care?I, only I, of all the watery raceBy force subjected to a man’s embrace,Who, sinking now with age and sorrow, paysThe mighty fine imposed on length of days.Sprung from my bed, a godlike hero came,The bravest sure that ever bore the name;Like some fair plant beneath my careful handHe grew, he flourish’d, and adorn’d the land!To Troy I sent him! but his native shoreNever, ah never, shall receive him more;(Even while he lives, he wastes with secret woe;)Nor I, a goddess, can retard the blow!Robb’d of the prize the Grecian suffrage gave,The king of nations forced his royal slave:For this he grieved; and, till the Greeks oppress’dRequired his arm, he sorrow’d unredress’d.Large gifts they promise, and their elders send;In vain—he arms not, but permits his friendHis arms, his steeds, his forces to employ:He marches, combats, almost conquers Troy:Then slain by Phœbus (Hector had the name)At once resigns his armour, life, and fame.But thou, in pity, by my prayer be won:Grace with immortal arms this short-lived son,And to the field in martial pomp restore,To shine with glory, till he shines no more!”

To her the artist-god: “Thy griefs resign,Secure, what Vulcan can, is ever thine.O could I hide him from the Fates, as well,Or with these hands the cruel stroke repel,As I shall forge most envied arms, the gazeOf wondering ages, and the world’s amaze!”

Thus having said, the father of the firesTo the black labours of his forge retires.Soon as he bade them blow, the bellows turn’dTheir iron mouths; and where the furnace burn’d,Resounding breathed: at once the blast expires,And twenty forges catch at once the fires;Just as the god directs, now loud, now low,They raise a tempest, or they gently blow;In hissing flames huge silver bars are roll’d,And stubborn brass, and tin, and solid gold;Before, deep fix’d, the eternal anvils stand;The ponderous hammer loads his better hand,His left with tongs turns the vex’d metal round,And thick, strong strokes, the doubling vaults rebound.

Then first he form’d the immense and solid shield;Rich various artifice emblazed the field;Its utmost verge a threefold circle bound;A silver chain suspends the massy round;Five ample plates the broad expanse compose,And godlike labours on the surface rose.There shone the image of the master-mind:There earth, there heaven, there ocean he design’d;The unwearied sun, the moon completely round;The starry lights that heaven’s high convex crown’d;The Pleiads, Hyads, with the northern team;And great Orion’s more refulgent beam;To which, around the axle of the sky,The Bear, revolving, points his golden eye,Still shines exalted on the ethereal plain,Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main.

Two cities radiant on the shield appear,The image one of peace, and one of war.Here sacred pomp and genial feast delight,And solemn dance, and hymeneal rite;Along the street the new-made brides are led,With torches flaming, to the nuptial bed:The youthful dancers in a circle boundTo the soft flute, and cithern’s silver sound:Through the fair streets the matrons in a rowStand in their porches, and enjoy the show.

There in the forum swarm a numerous train;The subject of debate, a townsman slain:One pleads the fine discharged, which one denied,And bade the public and the laws decide:The witness is produced on either hand:For this, or that, the partial people stand:The appointed heralds still the noisy bands,And form a ring, with sceptres in their hands:On seats of stone, within the sacred place,The reverend elders nodded o’er the case;Alternate, each the attesting sceptre took,And rising solemn, each his sentence spoke.Two golden talents lay amidst, in sight,The prize of him who best adjudged the right.

Another part (a prospect differing far)Glow’d with refulgent arms, and horrid war.Two mighty hosts a leaguer’d town embrace,And one would pillage, one would burn the place.Meantime the townsmen, arm’d with silent care,A secret ambush on the foe prepare:Their wives, their children, and the watchful bandOf trembling parents, on the turrets stand.They march; by Pallas and by Mars made bold:Gold were the gods, their radiant garments gold,And gold their armour: these the squadron led,August, divine, superior by the head!A place for ambush fit they found, and stood,Cover’d with shields, beside a silver flood.Two spies at distance lurk, and watchful seemIf sheep or oxen seek the winding stream.Soon the white flocks proceeded o’er the plains,And steers slow-moving, and two shepherd swains;Behind them piping on their reeds they go,Nor fear an ambush, nor suspect a foe.In arms the glittering squadron rising roundRush sudden; hills of slaughter heap the ground;Whole flocks and herds lie bleeding on the plains,And, all amidst them, dead, the shepherd swains!The bellowing oxen the besiegers hear;They rise, take horse, approach, and meet the war,They fight, they fall, beside the silver flood;The waving silver seem’d to blush with blood.There Tumult, there Contention stood confess’d;One rear’d a dagger at a captive’s breast;One held a living foe, that freshly bledWith new-made wounds; another dragg’d a dead;Now here, now there, the carcases they tore:Fate stalk’d amidst them, grim with human gore.And the whole war came out, and met the eye;And each bold figure seem’d to live or die.

A field deep furrow’d next the god design’d,The third time labour’d by the sweating hind;The shining shares full many ploughmen guide,And turn their crooked yokes on every side.Still as at either end they wheel around,The master meets them with his goblet crown’d;The hearty draught rewards, renews their toil,Then back the turning ploughshares cleave the soil:Behind, the rising earth in ridges roll’d;And sable look’d, though form’d of molten gold.

Another field rose high with waving grain;With bended sickles stand the reaper train:Here stretched in ranks the levell’d swarths are found,Sheaves heap’d on sheaves here thicken up the ground.With sweeping stroke the mowers strow the lands;The gatherers follow, and collect in bands;And last the children, in whose arms are borne(Too short to gripe them) the brown sheaves of corn.The rustic monarch of the field descries,With silent glee, the heaps around him rise.A ready banquet on the turf is laid,Beneath an ample oak’s expanded shade.The victim ox the sturdy youth prepare;The reaper’s due repast, the woman’s care.

Next, ripe in yellow gold, a vineyard shines,Bent with the ponderous harvest of its vines;A deeper dye the dangling clusters show,And curl’d on silver props, in order glow:A darker metal mix’d intrench’d the place;And pales of glittering tin the inclosure grace.To this, one pathway gently winding leads,Where march a train with baskets on their heads,(Fair maids and blooming youths,) that smiling bearThe purple product of the autumnal year.To these a youth awakes the warbling strings,Whose tender lay the fate of Linus sings;In measured dance behind him move the train,Tune soft the voice, and answer to the strain.

Here herds of oxen march, erect and bold,Rear high their horns, and seem to low in gold,And speed to meadows on whose sounding shoresA rapid torrent through the rushes roars:Four golden herdsmen as their guardians stand,And nine sour dogs complete the rustic band.Two lions rushing from the wood appear’d;And seized a bull, the master of the herd:He roar’d: in vain the dogs, the men withstood;They tore his flesh, and drank his sable blood.The dogs (oft cheer’d in vain) desert the prey,Dread the grim terrors, and at distance bay.

Next this, the eye the art of Vulcan leadsDeep through fair forests, and a length of meads,And stalls, and folds, and scatter’d cots between;And fleecy flocks, that whiten all the scene.

A figured dance succeeds; such once was seenIn lofty Gnossus for the Cretan queen,Form’d by Daedalean art; a comely bandOf youths and maidens, bounding hand in hand.The maids in soft simars of linen dress’d;The youths all graceful in the glossy vest:Of those the locks with flowery wreath inroll’d;Of these the sides adorn’d with swords of gold,That glittering gay, from silver belts depend.Now all at once they rise, at once descend,With well-taught feet: now shape in oblique ways,Confusedly regular, the moving maze:Now forth at once, too swift for sight, they spring,And undistinguish’d blend the flying ring:So whirls a wheel, in giddy circle toss’d,And, rapid as it runs, the single spokes are lost.The gazing multitudes admire around:Two active tumblers in the centre bound;Now high, now low, their pliant limbs they bend:And general songs the sprightly revel end.

Thus the broad shield complete the artist crown’dWith his last hand, and pour’d the ocean round:In living silver seem’d the waves to roll,And beat the buckler’s verge, and bound the whole.

This done, whate’er a warrior’s use requiresHe forged; the cuirass that outshone the fires,The greaves of ductile tin, the helm impress’dWith various sculpture, and the golden crest.At Thetis’ feet the finished labour lay:She, as a falcon cuts the aerial way,Swift from Olympus’ snowy summit flies,And bears the blazing present through the skies.

Words in this poem 110

meanwhile n.: The intervening time; as, in the meantime (or mean time).
hellespont n.: A narrow strait between Europe and Asia, now called the Daradanelles. It connects the Ægean Sea and the sea of Marmora.
nestor n.: A genus of parrots with gray heads. of New Zeland and papua, allied to the cockatoos. See Kaka.
boding a.: Foreshowing; presaging; ominous.
myrmidonian a.: Consisting of, or like, myrmidons.
corse n.: A living body or its bulk. [OF. cors, F. corps. See Corpse.]
scorching a.: Burning; parching or shriveling with heat.
amidst prep.: In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
hoary a.: White or whitish."The hoary willows."
languish v. i.: To cause to dr Shak.
nemertes n.: A genus of nemertina.
galatea n.: A kind of striped cotton fabric, usually of superior quality and striped with blue or red on white.
deplore v. t.: To feel or to express deep and poignant grief for; to bewail; to lament; to mourn; to sorrow over. [L. deplorare; de- + plorare to cry out, wail, lament; prob. akin to pluere to rain, and to E. flow: cf. F. déplorer. Cf. Flow.]
dame n.: A mistress of a family, who is a lady; a womam in authority; especially, a lady. [F. dame, LL. domna, fr. L. domina mistress, lady, fem. of dominus master, ruler, lord; akin to domare to tame, subdue. See Tame, and cf. Dam mother, Dan, Danger]
cureless a.: Incapable of cure; incurable.
thunderer n.: One who thunders; -- used especially as a translation of L.
favour n.: Kind regard; propitious aspect; countenance; friendly disposition; kindness; good will. [Written also favour.]
glorious a.: Exhibiting attributes, qualities, or acts that are worthy of or receive glory; noble; praiseworthy; excellent; splendid; illustrious; inspiring admiration; as, glorious deeds. [OF. glorios, glorious, F. glorieux, fr. L. gloriosus. See Glory, n.]
cursed a.: Deserving a curse; execrable; hateful; detestable; abominable.
womb n.: The belly; the abdomen. [OE. wombe, wambe, AS. wamb, womb; akin to D. wam belly, OS. & OHG. wamba, G. wamme, wampe, Icel. vömb, Sw. v&mb, Dan. vom, Goth. wamba.]
shall v. i.: To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
quell v. t.: To take the life of; to kill. [OE. quellen to kill, AS. cwellan, causative of cwelan to die; akin to OHG. quellen to torment, Icel. kvelja. See Quail to cower.]
jove n.: The chief divinity of the ancient Romans; Jupiter. [L. Jupiter, gen. Jovis, OL. Jovis, nom. & gen. for Djovis; akin to E. Tuesday. See Tuesday, and cf. Jupiter.]
reap n.: A bundle of grain; a handful of grain laid down by the reaper as it is cut. Wright. [Cf. AS. rip harvest. See Reap, v.]
succour v. t.: tiono run to, or run to support; hence, to help or relieve when in difficulty, want, or distress; to assist and deliver from suffering; to relieve; as, to succor a besieged city. [OE. socouren, OF. sucurre, soucourre, secorre, F. secourir, L. succurrere, succursum, to run under, run to the aid of, help, succor; sub under + currere to run.]
awhile adv.: For a while; for some time; for a short time. [Adj. a + while time, interval.]
generous a.: Of honorable birth or origin; highborn. [F. généreux, fr. L. generous of noble birth, noble, excellent, magnanimous, fr. genus birth, race: cf. It. generoso. See 2d Gender.]
ardour n.: Heat, in a literal sense; as, the ardor of the sun's rays. [L. ardor, fr. ardere to burn: cf. OF. ardor, ardur, F. ardeur.]
refulgent a.: Casting a bright light; radiant; brilliant; resplendent; shining; splendid; as, refulgent beams. [L. refulgens, p. pr. of refulgere to flash back, to shine bright; pref. re- re- + fulgere to shine. See Fulgent.]
vulcanian a.: Of or pertaining to Vulcan; made by Vulcan; hence, of or pertaining to works in iron or other metals. [L. Vulcanius.]
starry a.: Abounding with stars; adorned with stars.
sire n.: A lord, master, or other person in authority. See Sir. [F. sire, originally, an older person. See Sir.]
tented a.: Covered with tents.
showery a.: Raining in showers; abounding with frequent showers of rain.
wield v. t.: To govern; to rule; to keep, or have in charge; also, to possess. [OE. welden to govern, to have power over, to possess, AS. geweldan, gewyldan, from wealdan; akin to OS. waldan, OFries. walda, G. walten, OHG. waltan, Icel. val]
defence n.: The act of defending, or the state of being defended; protection, as from violence or danger. [F. défense, OF. defense, fem., defens, masc., fr. L. defensa (cf. Fence.]
clad v.: To clothe. Holland.
tremendous a.: Fitted to excite fear or terror; such as may astonish or terrify by its magnitude, force, or violence; terrible; dreadful; as, a tremendous wind; a tremendous shower; a tremendous shock or fall. [L. tremendus that is to be trembled at, fearful, fr. tremere to tremble. See Tremble.]
spoke n.: The radius or ray of a wheel; one of the small bars which are inserted in the hub, or nave, and which serve to support the rim or felly. [OE. spoke, spake, AS, spaca; akin to D. speek, LG. speke, OHG. speihha, G. speiche. sq. root170. Cf. Spike a nail.]
pallas n.: Pallas Athene, the Grecian goddess of wisdom, called also Athene, and identified, at a later period, with the Roman Minerva.
afar adv.: At, to, or from a great distance; far away; -- often used with from preceding, or off following; as, he was seen from afar; I saw him afar off. [Pref. a-.(for on or of) + far.]
aloud adv.: With a loud voice, or great noise; loudly; audibly. [Pref. a- + loud.]
minerva n.: The goddess of wisdom, of war, of the arts and sciences, of poetry, and of spinning and weaving; -- identified with the Grecian Pallas Athene. [L.]
clangour n.: A sharp, harsh, ringing sound. [L., fr. clangere. See Clang, v. t.]
dreadful a.: Full of dread or terror; fearful.
bier n.: A handbarrow or portable frame on which a corpse is placed or borne to the grave. [OE. bæe, beere, AS. b, b; akin to D. baar, OHG. bara, G. bahre, Icel barar, Dbaare, L. feretrum, Gr. , from the same bear to produce. See 1st Bear, and cf. Barr]
breathless a.: Spent with labor or violent action; out of breath.
unwearied a.: Not wearied; not fatigued or tired; hence, persistent; not tiring or wearying; indefatigable.
achaian a.: Of or pertaining to Achaia in Greece; also, Grecian.
deem v. t.: To decide; to judge; to sentence; to condemn. [OE. demen to judge, condemn, AS. d, fr. d doom; akin to OFries. d, OS. ad, D. doemen, OHG. tuommen, Icel. dæma, Sw. dömma, Dan. dömme, Goth. d. See Doom, n., an]
boldly adv.: In a bold manner. [AS. bealdlice.]
henceforth adv.: From this time forward; henceforward.
strife n.: The act of striving; earnest endeavor. [OF. estrif. See Strive.]
ensue v. t.: To follow; to pursue; to follow and overtake. [OF. ensevre, OF. & F. ensuivre, fr. L. insequi; in + sequi to pursue. See Sue.]
valiant a.: Vigorous in body; strong; powerful; as, a valiant fencer. [OE. valiant, F. vaillant, OF. vaillant, valant, originally p. pr. of OF. & F. valoir to be worth, L. valere to be strong. See Wield, and cf. Avail, Convalesce, ]
exhaustless a.: Not be exhausted; inexhaustible; as, an exhaustless fund or store.
inglorious a.: Not glorious; not bringing honor or glory; not accompanied with fame, honor, or celebrity; obscure; humble; as, an inglorious life of ease. [L. inglorious; pref. in- not + gloria glory, fame: cf. F. inglorieux. See Glory.]
dispirit v. t.: To deprive of cheerful spirits; to depress the spirits of; to dishearten; to discourage. [Pref. dis- + spirit.]
morn n.: The first part of the day; the morning; -- used chiefly in poetry. [OE. morwen, morgen, AS. morgen; akin to D. morgen, OS. morgan, G. morgen, Icel. morginn, morgunn, Sw. morgon, Dan. morgen, Goth. maúrgins. Cf. Morrow, Morning.]
honour n.: Esteem due or paid to worth; high estimation; respect; consideration; reverence; veneration; manifestation of respect or reverence. [OE. honor, honour, onour, onur, OF. honor, onor, honur, onur, honour, onour, F. honneur, fr. L. honor, honos.]
sable n.: A carnivorous animal of the Weasel family (Mustela zibellina) native of the northern latitudes of Europe, Asia, and America, -- noted for its fine, soft, and valuable fur. [OF. sable, F. zibeline sable (in sense 4), LL. sabellum; cf. D. sabel, Dan. sabel, zobel, Sw. sabel, sobel, G. zobel; all fr. Russ. sóbole.]
designing a.: Intriguing; artful; scheming; as, a designing man.
darksome a.: Dark; gloomy; obscure; shaded; cheerless.
pyre n.: A funeral pile; a combustible heap on which the dead are burned; hence, any pile to be burnt. [L. pure, Gr. Fire.]
bade: A form of the pat tense of Bid.
massy a.: Compacted into, or consisting of, a mass; having bulk and weight ot substance; ponderous; bulky and heavy; weight; heavy; as, a massy shield; a massy rock.
caldron n.: A large kettle or boiler of copper, brass, or iron. [OE. caldron, caudron, caudroun, OF. caudron, chauderon, F. chaudron, an aug. of F. chaudière, LL. caldaria, fr. L. caldarius suitable for warming, fr. caldus, c]
stupendous a.: Astonishing; wonderful; amazing; especially, astonishing in magnitude or elevation; as, a stupendous pile. [L. stupendus astonishing, p. future pass. of stupere to be astonished at. Cf. Stupid.]
thundering a.: Emitting thunder.
wreak v. i.: To reck; to care.
amid prep.: In the midst or middle of; surrounded or encompassed by; among. [OE. amidde, amiddes, on midden, AS. on middan, in the middle, fr. midde the middle. The s is an adverbial ending, originally marking the genitive; the t is a la]
puffing: a. & n. from Puff, v. i. & t. Puffing adder. (Zoöl.) Same as Puff adder (b), under Puff.
wondrous adv.: In a wonderful or surprising manner or degree; wonderfully. [OE. wonders, adv. (later also adj.). See Wonder, n., and cf. -wards.]
responsive a.: That responds; ready or inclined to respond. [Cf. F. resposif.]
spouse v. t.: To wed; to espouse. [See Espouse, and Spouse, n.]
graced a.: Endowed with grace; beautiful; full of graces; honorable.
footstool n.: A low stool to support the feet of one when sitting.
abode n.: Act of waiting; delay. [OE. abad, abood, fr. abiden to abide. See Abide. For the change of vowel, cf. abode, imp. of abide.]
mansion n.: A dwelling place, -- whether a part or whole of a house or other shelter. [OF. mansion, F. maison, fr. L. mansio a staying, remaining, a dwelling, habitation, fr. manere, mansum, to stay, dwell; akin to Gr. Manse, Manor, Menagerie, Men]
vouchsafe v. t.: To condescend to grant; to concede; to bestow. [Vouch + safe, that is, to vouch or answer for safety.]
genial a.: Contributing to, or concerned in, propagation or production; generative; procreative; productive. [L. genialis: cf. OF. genial. See Genius.]
forego v. t.: To quit; to relinquish; to leave. [See Forgo.]
artist n.: One who practices some mechanic art or craft; an artisan. [F. artiste, LL. artista, fr. L. ars. See Art, n., and cf. Artiste.]
brawny a.: Having large, strong muscles; muscular; fleshy; strong.
sceptre n.: A staff or baton borne by a sovereign, as a ceremonial badge or emblem of authority; a royal mace. [F. sceptre, L. sceptrum, from Gr. shaft. See Shaft, and cf. Scape a stem, shaft.]
sate v. t.: To satisfy the desire or appetite of; to satiate; to glut; to surfeit. [Probably shortened fr. satiate: cf. L. satus full. See Satiate.]
armour n.: Defensive arms for the body; any clothing or covering worn to protect one's person in battle. [OE. armure, fr. F. armure, OF. armeure, fr. L. armatura. See Armature.]
amaze v. t.: To bewilder; to stupefy; to bring into a maze. [Pref. a- + maze.]
hyads n.: A cluster of five stars in the face of the constellation Taurus, supposed by the ancients to indicate the coming of rainy weather when they rose with the sun.
hymeneal a.: Of or pertaining to marriage; as, hymeneal rites. [L. hymeneius, a., also Hymenaeus, n., Hymen, Gr. hyménéal, hyménéen.]
forum n.: A market place or public place in Rome, where causes were judicially tried, and orations delivered to the people. [L.; akin to foris, foras, out of doors. See Foreign.]
townsman n.: An inhabitant of a town; one of the same town with another.
reverend a.: Worthy of reverence; entitled to respect mingled with fear and affection; venerable. [F. révérend, L. reverendus, fr. revereri. See Revere.]
horrid a.: Rough; rugged; bristling. [L. horridus. See Horror, and cf. Ordure.]
squadron n.: Primarily, a square; hence, a square body of troops; a body of troops drawn up in a square. [F. escadron, formerly also esquadron, or It. squadrone. See Squad.]
piping a.: Playing on a musical pipe. [From Pipe, v.]
tore n.: The dead grass that remains on mowing land in winter and spring. Mortimer. [Probably from the root of tear; cf. W. tór a break, cut, tóri to break, cut.]
glee n.: Music; minstrelsy; entertainment.
vineyard n.: An inclosure or yard for grapevines; a plantation of vines producing grapes. [For OE. winyard, AS. wingeard; influenced by E. vine. See Wine, and Yard an inclosure.]
props n.: A game of chance, in which four sea shells, each called a prop, are used instead of dice.
pathway n.: A footpath; a beaten track; any path or course. Also used figuratively.
drank n.: Wild oats, or darnel grass. See Drake a plant. [Cf. 3d Drake.]
fleecy a.: Covered with, made of, or resembling, a fleece.
cretan a.: Pertaining to Crete, or Candia.
vest n.: An article of clothing covering the person; an outer garment; a vestment; a dress; a vesture; a robe. [L. vestis a garment, vesture; akin to Goth. wasti, and E. wear: cf. F. veste. See Wear to carry on the person, and cf. Divest, Invest, Travesty.]
maze n.: A wild fancy; a confused notion. [OE. mase; cf. OE. masen to confuse, puzzle, Norweg. masast to fall into a slumber, masa to be continually busy, prate, chatter, Icel. masa to chatter, dial. Sw.]
admire v. t.: To regard with wonder or astonishment; to view with surprise; to marvel at. [F. admirer, fr. L. admirari; ad + mirari to wonder, for smirari, akin to Gr. smi, and E. smile.]
centre v. i.: To be placed in a center; to be central.
greaves n.: The sediment of melted tallow. It is made into cakes for dogs' food. In Scotland it is called cracklings. [Cf. dial. Sw. grevar greaves, LG. greven, G. griebe, also AS. greofa pot. Cf. Gravy.]
snowy a.: White like snow.

Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.

About this text

Book XVIII: The Grief of Achilles, and New Armour Made Him by Vulcan is in the public domain. This text is taken from The Iliad, Project Gutenberg ebook #6130, the Alexander Pope translation; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.

Cite as: Homer, Book XVIII: The Grief of Achilles, and New Armour Made Him by Vulcan, in The Iliad (1720), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #6130, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/homer-iliad/book-xviii-the-grief-of-achilles-and-new-armour-made-him-by-.html, id L14030.

Form and metre

Book XVIII: The Grief of Achilles, and New Armour Made Him by Vulcan is 712 lines in 48 verse paragraphs. It is in rhyming couplets, 96% of the lines: heroic couplets. The metre is iambic pentameter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 90%). 96% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 10.0 syllables. 17 lines end on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 12% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.

See other poems in heroic couplets, other poems in iambic pentameter.

Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.

Rhyme words, stanza by stanza

The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.

1 AABBCCDDEEBBFFGGHH burns^A · turns^A · flow^B · woe^B · sails^C · gales^C · design'd^D · mind^D · constrains^E · plains^E · ago^B · woe^B · hand^F · band^F · decree^G · he^G · plain^H · vain^H
2 AA--BB appears^A · tears^A · hear · messenger · fight^B · right^B
3 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH chief^A · grief^A · spread^B · head^B · hairs^C · tears^C · threw^D · grew^D · charms^E · arms^E · round^F · ground^F · part^G · heart^G · woe^H · blow^H
4 AABBCCDDEEFF--GGHHIIJJKK--GG main^A · train^A · throne^B · groan^B · weep^C · deep^C · name^D · came^D · nigh^E · eye^E · rear^F · appear^F · melita · gay · show^G · slow^G · tides^H · divides^H · head^I · bed^I · attend^J · extend^J · fair^K · hair^K · held · fill'd · woe^G · flow^G
5 AABBCCDDAAEEFFGG main^A · complain^A · fate^B · state^B · came^C · name^C · hand^D · land^D · ordain^A · again^A · view^E · too^E · shore^F · deplore^F · part^G · heart^G
6 AABBCCDDEE main^A · train^A · tides^B · divides^B · land^C · strand^C · beside^D · replied^D · ran^E · began^E
7 AABB request^A · distress'd^A · share^B · care^B
8 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLL grief^A · relief^A · boast^B · lost^B · train^C · slain^C · bestow'd^D · load^D · above^E · love^E · main^F · reign^F · led^G · bed^G · womb^H · come^H · slain^I · again^I · give^J · live^J · heart^K · dart^K · then^L · men^L
9 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPPQQRRSSTT shed^A · dead^A · die^B · reply^B · plain^C · vain^C · day^D · away^D · demand^E · hand^E · renown'd^F · ground^F · skill^G · kill^G · above^H · remove^H · breast^I · taste^I · kind^J · mind^J · hate^K · fate^K · friend^L · end^L · shun^M · son^M · breath^N · death^N · dead^O · dread^O · fields^P · yields^P · tear^Q · hair^Q · sighs^R · eyes^R · charms^S · arms^S · wide^T · tide^T
10 AABBCCDDEEFF reply^A · sigh^A · save^B · brave^B · plains^C · detains^C · high^D · nigh^D · stay^E · day^E · load^F · god^F
11 AA main^A · train^A
12 AABBCC-- descend^A · attend^A · divine^B · shine^B · gave^C · wave^C · abodes · gods
13 AABB--CCDDEEFFEEGG--HHII force^A · course^A · bore^B · shore^B · join'd · behind · corn^C · borne^C · drew^D · flew^D · sustain^E · again^E · fires^F · retires^F · vain^E · slain^E · away^G · day^G · air · messenger · bow^H · below^H · came^I · dame^I
14 AABBCCDDEE brave^A · save^A · spread^B · dead^B · contends^C · ends^C · lie^D · high^D · fame^E · shame^E
15 AA skies^A · replies^A
16 AABBCCDDEEFFGG jove^A · above^A · high^B · sky^B · warm'd^C · unarm'd^C · stay^D · day^D · wield^E · shield^E · spread^F · dead^F · son^G · done^G
17 AABBCC know^A · go^A · appear^B · fear^B · eye^C · fly^C
18 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPPQQ rose^A · throws^A · spread^B · head^B · arise^C · skies^C · afar^D · war^D · rays^E · blaze^E · bright^F · light^F · rise^G · skies^G · crowd^H · aloud^H · sound^I · rebound^I · far^J · war^J · high^K · reply^K · rear'd^L · heard^L · bound^M · ground^M · play^N · ray^N · raised^O · amazed^O · rush'd^P · crush'd^P · obtain^Q · slain^Q
19 AABB--CC bears^A · tears^A · head^B · dead^B · car · war · found^C · wound^C
20 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH way^A · day^A · command^B · band^B · war^C · car^C · appear'd^D · fear'd^D · debate^E · fate^E · last^F · past^F · fears^G · years^G · gave^H · brave^H
21 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPPQQ speak^A · break^A · post^B · coast^B · engaged^C · raged^C · prevail^D · sail^D · mind^E · confined^E · fray^F · day^F · strife^G · life^G · night^H · fight^H · here^I · fear^I · joy^J · troy^J · true^K · ensue^K · try^L · supply^L · depend^M · defend^M · powers^N · towers^N · calls^O · walls^O · plain^P · again^P · down^Q · town^Q
22 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNN disdain^A · again^A · say^B · lay^B · old^C · gold^C · stay'd^D · decay'd^D · enjoy^E · troy^E · calls^F · walls^F · incite^G · flight^G · lend^H · attend^H · care^I · share^I · those^J · foes^J · warms^K · arms^K · might^L · fight^L · give^M · live^M · all^N · fall^N
23 AABB join'd^A · mind^A · choose^B · refuse^B
24 AABBCCDDEEFFGG reign^A · train^A · stood^B · blood^B · start^C · heart^C · stung^D · young^D · den^E · men^E · bounds^F · resounds^F · vents^G · laments^G
25 AABB--CCBBDDEEFF--GGDDHH engage^A · age^A · restore^B · shore^B · disdain · man · strike^C · alike^C · deplore^B · more^B · stay^D · way^D · laid^E · shade^E · shrine^F · line^F · expire · pyre · press'd^G · breast^G · stay^D · day^D · wide^H · side^H
26 AABBCCDDEEFFGG round^A · wound^A · frame^B · flame^B · divides^C · sides^C · stream^D · brim^D · toil^E · oil^E · laid^F · shade^F · threw^G · renew^G
27 AABBCC above^A · jove^A · son^B · won^B · divine^C · line^C
28 AABB--CC replies^A · eyes^A · lend^B · attend^B · above · jove · command^C · land^C
29 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKK dame^A · frame^A · divine^B · shine^B · found^C · round^C · flew^D · blew^D · claim'd^E · framed^E · gold^F · roll'd^F · abodes^G · gods^G · flowers^H · pours^H · frame^I · came^I · fair^J · hair^J · press'd^K · address'd^K
30 AABB draws^A · cause^A · hour^B · bower^B
31 AAB-CCDD--EE--BBFFGGHH graced^A · placed^A · said^B · aid · claim^C · name^C · sky^D · eye^D · redress'd · breast · thought^E · wrought^E · abode · god · led^B · head^B · say^F · pay^F · share^G · fare^G · forego^H · blow^H
32 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHH rose^A · goes^A · laid^B · trade^B · dress'd^C · breast^C · attire^D · fire^D · uphold^E · gold^E · given^F · heaven^F · gait^G · sate^G · frame^H · dame^H
33 AABB calls^A · walls^A · lay^B · obey^B
34 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPP replies^A · eyes^A · divine^B · mine^B · prepare^C · care^C · race^D · embrace^D · pays^E · days^E · came^F · name^F · hand^G · land^G · shore^H · more^H · woe^I · blow^I · gave^J · slave^J · oppress'd^K · unredress'd^K · send^L · friend^L · employ^M · troy^M · name^N · fame^N · won^O · son^O · restore^P · more^P
35 AABBCC resign^A · thine^A · well^B · repel^B · gaze^C · amaze^C
36 AABBAACCDDEEFF fires^A · retires^A · turn'd^B · burn'd^B · expires^A · fires^A · low^C · blow^C · roll'd^D · gold^D · stand^E · hand^E · round^F · rebound^F
37 AABBCCDDBBEEFFGG shield^A · field^A · bound^B · round^B · compose^C · rose^C · mind^D · design'd^D · round^B · crown'd^B · team^E · beam^E · sky^F · eye^F · plain^G · main^G
38 AABBCCDDEE appear^A · war^A · delight^B · rite^B · led^C · bed^C · bound^D · sound^D · row^E · show^E
39 AABBCCDDEEFFGG train^A · slain^A · denied^B · decide^B · hand^C · stand^C · bands^D · hands^D · place^E · case^E · took^F · spoke^F · sight^G · right^G
40 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJKKLLMMNNOOPPQQRR far^A · war^A · embrace^B · place^B · care^C · prepare^C · band^D · stand^D · bold^E · gold^E · led^F · head^F · stood^G · flood^G · seem^H · stream^H · plains^I · swains^I · go^J · foe^J · round^K · ground^K · plains^L · swains^L · hear^M · war^M · flood^N · blood^N · confess'd^O · breast^O · bled^P · dead^P · tore^Q · gore^Q · eye^R · die^R
41 AABBCCDDEE design'd^A · hind^A · guide^B · side^B · around^C · crown'd^C · toil^D · soil^D · roll'd^E · gold^E
42 AABBCCDDEEFFGG grain^A · train^A · found^B · ground^B · lands^C · bands^C · borne^D · corn^D · descries^E · rise^E · laid^F · shade^F · prepare^G · care^G
43 AABBCCDDEEFFGG shines^A · vines^A · show^B · glow^B · place^C · grace^C · leads^D · heads^D · bear^E · year^E · strings^F · sings^F · train^G · strain^G
44 AABBCCDDEEFF bold^A · gold^A · shores^B · roars^B · stand^C · band^C · appear'd^D · herd^D · withstood^E · blood^E · prey^F · bay^F
45 AABB leads^A · meads^A · between^B · scene^B
46 AABBCCDDEEFFGGHHIIJJ seen^A · queen^A · band^B · hand^B · dress'd^C · vest^C · inroll'd^D · gold^D · depend^E · descend^E · ways^F · maze^F · spring^G · ring^G · toss'd^H · lost^H · around^I · bound^I · bend^J · end^J
47 AABB crown'd^A · round^A · roll^B · whole^B
48 AABBCCDD requires^A · fires^A · impress'd^B · crest^B · lay^C · way^C · flies^D · skies^D

Scansion, line by line

Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against iambic pentameter. How this is done.

Line	Syl.	Stress
Thus like the rage of fire the combat burns,	10	·····/·/˘·
And now it rises, now it sinks by turns.	10	···/˘·····
Meanwhile, where Hellespont’s broad waters flow,	10	/······/˘·
Stood Nestor’s son, the messenger of woe:	10	·/˘··/˘˘··
There sat Achilles, shaded by his sails,	10	··˘/˘/˘···
On hoisted yards extended to the gales;	10	·/˘·˘/˘···
Pensive he sat; for all that fate design’d	10	/˘······˘/
Rose in sad prospect to his boding mind.	10	···/˘··/˘·
Thus to his soul he said: “Ah! what constrains	10	········˘/
The Greeks, late victors, now to quit the plains?	10	···/˘·····
Is this the day, which heaven so long ago	10	·····/··˘/
Ordain’d, to sink me with the weight of woe?	10	˘/········
(So Thetis warn’d;) when by a Trojan hand	10	·/˘····/˘·
The bravest of the Myrmidonian band	10	·/˘·······
Should lose the light! Fulfilled is that decree;	10	····˘/··˘/
Fallen is the warrior, and Patroclus he!	11	/˘··/˘·····
In vain I charged him soon to quit the plain,	10	··········
And warn’d to shun Hectorean force in vain!”	10	··········
Thus while he thinks, Antilochus appears,	10	········˘/
And tells the melancholy tale with tears.	10	···/˘·˘···
“Sad tidings, son of Peleus! thou must hear;	10	·/˘·······
And wretched I, the unwilling messenger!	11	·/˘··˘/˘/˘˘
Dead is Patroclus! For his corse they fight;	10	··········
His naked corse: his arms are Hector’s right.”	10	·/˘····/˘·
A sudden horror shot through all the chief,	10	·/˘/˘·····
And wrapp’d his senses in the cloud of grief;	10	···/˘·····
Cast on the ground, with furious hands he spread	10	·····/˘···
The scorching ashes o’er his graceful head;	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
His purple garments, and his golden hairs,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Those he deforms with dust, and these he tears;	10	···/······
On the hard soil his groaning breast he threw,	10	·····/˘···
And roll’d and grovell’d, as to earth he grew.	10	··········
The virgin captives, with disorder’d charms,	10	·/˘/˘·˘/˘·
(Won by his own, or by Patroclus’ arms,)	10	··········
Rush’d from their tents with cries; and gathering round,	10	·······/˘·
Beat their white breasts, and fainted on the ground:	10	·····/˘···
While Nestor’s son sustains a manlier part,	10	·/˘·˘/····
And mourns the warrior with a warrior’s heart;	10	···/˘··/˘·
Hangs on his arms, amidst his frantic woe,	10	····˘/·/˘·
And oft prevents the meditated blow.	10	··˘/·/˘·˘·
Far in the deep abysses of the main,	10	····˘/˘···
With hoary Nereus, and the watery train,	10	·/˘····/˘·
The mother-goddess from her crystal throne	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Heard his loud cries, and answer’d groan for groan.	10	·····/˘···
The circling Nereids with their mistress weep,	10	·/˘····/˘·
And all the sea-green sisters of the deep.	10	·····/˘···
Thalia, Glauce (every watery name),	10	/˘·/˘˘/˘˘·
Nesaea mild, and silver Spio came:	8	····/˘··
Cymothoe and Cymodoce were nigh,	9	·········
And the blue languish of soft Alia’s eye.	10	···/˘··/˘·
Their locks Actaea and Limnoria rear,	9	·········
Then Proto, Doris, Panope appear,	9	·/˘/˘··˘/
Thoa, Pherusa, Doto, Melita;	9	····/˘˘/˘
Agave gentle, and Amphithoe gay:	10	˘/˘/˘·····
Next Callianira, Callianassa show	10	··········
Their sister looks; Dexamene the slow,	9	·/˘······
And swift Dynamene, now cut the tides:	9	·········
Iaera now the verdant wave divides:	9	····/˘·˘/
Nemertes with Apseudes lifts the head,	9	˘/˘······
Bright Galatea quits her pearly bed;	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
These Orythia, Clymene, attend,	8	····˘/˘/
Maera, Amphinome, the train extend;	9	·······˘/
And black Janira, and Janassa fair,	10	··········
And Amatheia with her amber hair.	9	······/˘·
All these, and all that deep in ocean held	10	·······/˘·
Their sacred seats, the glimmering grotto fill’d;	10	·/˘··/˘/··
Each beat her ivory breast with silent woe,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Till Thetis’ sorrows thus began to flow:	10	·/˘/˘·˘/··
“Hear me, and judge, ye sisters of the main!	10	·····/˘···
How just a cause has Thetis to complain!	10	·····/˘·˘/
How wretched, were I mortal, were my fate!	10	·/˘··/˘···
How more than wretched in the immortal state!	11	···/˘··˘/˘·
Sprung from my bed a godlike hero came,	10	·····/˘/˘·
The bravest far that ever bore the name;	10	·/˘··/˘···
Like some fair olive, by my careful hand	10	···/˘··/˘·
He grew, he flourish’d and adorn’d the land!	10	···/˘·˘/··
To Troy I sent him: but the fates ordain	10	········˘/
He never, never must return again.	10	·/˘/˘·˘/˘/
So short a space the light of heaven to view,	10	·······/··
So short, alas! and fill’d with anguish too!	10	··˘/···/˘·
Hear how his sorrows echo through the shore!	10	···/˘/˘···
I cannot ease them, but I must deplore;	10	·/˘·····˘/
I go at least to bear a tender part,	10	·······/˘·
And mourn my loved-one with a mother’s heart.”	10	·······/˘·
She said, and left the caverns of the main,	10	·····/˘···
All bathed in tears; the melancholy train	10	·····/˘·˘·
Attend her way. Wide-opening part the tides,	10	˘/···/˘···
While the long pomp the silver wave divides.	10	·····/˘·˘/
Approaching now, they touch’d the Trojan land;	10	˘/˘····/˘·
Then, two by two, ascended up the strand.	10	····˘/˘···
The immortal mother, standing close beside	11	·˘/˘/˘/˘·˘/
Her mournful offspring, to his sighs replied;	10	·/˘/····˘/
Along the coast their mingled clamours ran,	10	˘/···/˘/˘·
And thus the silver-footed dame began:	10	···/˘/˘·˘/
“Why mourns my son? thy late preferr’d request	10	······˘/˘/
The god has granted, and the Greeks distress’d:	10	···/˘···˘/
Why mourns my son? thy anguish let me share,	10	·····/˘···
Reveal the cause, and trust a parent’s care.”	10	˘/·····/˘·
He, deeply groaning—“To this cureless grief,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Not even the Thunderer’s favour brings relief.	11	·/····/˘·˘/
Patroclus—Ah!—say, goddess, can I boast	10	·····/˘···
A pleasure now? revenge itself is lost;	10	·/˘·˘/˘/··
Patroclus, loved of all my martial train,	10	·······/˘·
Beyond mankind, beyond myself is slain!	10	··//···/··
Lost are those arms the gods themselves bestow’d	10	······˘/˘/
On Peleus; Hector bears the glorious load.	10	···/˘··/˘·
Cursed be that day, when all the powers above	10	·······/··
Thy charms submitted to a mortal love:	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
O hadst thou still, a sister of the main,	10	·····/˘···
Pursued the pleasures of the watery reign:	10	˘/·/˘··/˘·
And happier Peleus, less ambitious, led	10	·/˘···˘/˘·
A mortal beauty to his equal bed!	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Ere the sad fruit of thy unhappy womb	10	······˘/˘·
Had caused such sorrows past, and woes to come.	10	···/˘·····
For soon, alas! that wretched offspring slain,	10	··˘/·/˘/··
New woes, new sorrows, shall create again.	10	···/˘·˘/˘/
’Tis not in fate the alternate now to give;	10	·····/˘···
Patroclus dead, Achilles hates to live.	10	····˘/˘···
Let me revenge it on proud Hector’s heart,	10	··˘/···/˘·
Let his last spirit smoke upon my dart;	10	···/˘·····
On these conditions will I breathe: till then,	10	··˘/˘·····
I blush to walk among the race of men.”	10	··········
A flood of tears, at this, the goddess shed:	10	·······/˘·
“Ah then, I see thee dying, see thee dead!	10	·····/˘···
When Hector falls, thou diest.”—“Let Hector die,	10	·/˘····/˘·
And let me fall! (Achilles made reply)	10	····˘/˘·˘/
Far lies Patroclus from his native plain!	10	·······/˘·
He fell, and falling, wish’d my aid in vain.	10	···/˘·····
Ah then, since from this miserable day	10	·····/˘˘˘·
I cast all hope of my return away;	10	······˘/˘/
Since, unrevenged, a hundred ghosts demand	10	·····/˘·˘/
The fate of Hector from Achilles’ hand;	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
Since here, for brutal courage far renown’d,	10	···/˘/˘·˘/
I live an idle burden to the ground,	10	···/˘/˘···
(Others in council famed for nobler skill,	10	/˘·/˘··/˘·
More useful to preserve, than I to kill,)	10	·/˘·˘/····
Let me—But oh! ye gracious powers above!	10	·····/˘/··
Wrath and revenge from men and gods remove:	10	··˘/····˘/
Far, far too dear to every mortal breast,	10	·····/˘/˘·
Sweet to the soul, as honey to the taste:	10	·····/˘···
Gathering like vapours of a noxious kind	10	/˘·/˘··/˘·
From fiery blood, and darkening all the mind.	10	·/˘··/˘···
Me Agamemnon urged to deadly hate;	10	··˘/···/˘·
’Tis past—I quell it; I resign to fate.	10	······˘/··
Yes—I will meet the murderer of my friend;	10	·····/˘···
Or (if the gods ordain it) meet my end.	10	····˘/····
The stroke of fate the strongest cannot shun:	10	·····/˘/˘·
The great Alcides, Jove’s unequall’d son,	9	··/······
To Juno’s hate, at length resign’d his breath,	10	·/˘···˘/··
And sunk the victim of all-conquering death.	10	···/˘··/˘·
So shall Achilles fall! stretch’d pale and dead,	10	··˘/˘·····
No more the Grecian hope, or Trojan dread!	10	···/˘··/˘·
Let me, this instant, rush into the fields,	10	···/˘·····
And reap what glory life’s short harvest yields.	10	···/˘··/˘·
Shall I not force some widow’d dame to tear	10	·····/˘···
With frantic hands her long dishevell’d hair?	10	·/˘·······
Shall I not force her breast to heave with sighs,	10	··········
And the soft tears to trickle from her eyes?	10	·····/˘···
Yes, I shall give the fair those mournful charms—	10	·······/˘·
In vain you hold me—Hence! my arms! my arms!—	10	··········
Soon shall the sanguine torrent spread so wide,	10	···/˘/˘···
That all shall know Achilles swells the tide.”	10	····˘/˘···
“My son (coerulean Thetis made reply,	10	·····/˘·˘/
To fate submitting with a secret sigh,)	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
The host to succour, and thy friends to save,	10	···/˘·····
Is worthy thee; the duty of the brave.	10	·/˘··/˘···
But canst thou, naked, issue to the plains?	10	···/˘/˘···
Thy radiant arms the Trojan foe detains.	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
Insulting Hector bears the spoils on high,	10	˘/˘/˘·····
But vainly glories, for his fate is nigh.	10	·/˘/˘·····
Yet, yet awhile thy generous ardour stay;	10	··˘/·/˘/˘·
Assured, I meet thee at the dawn of day,	10	˘/········
Charged with refulgent arms (a glorious load),	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
Vulcanian arms, the labour of a god.”	11	˘/˘˘··/····
Then turning to the daughters of the main,	10	·/˘··/˘···
The goddess thus dismiss’d her azure train:	10	·/˘·˘/·/˘·
“Ye sister Nereids! to your deeps descend;	10	·/˘·····˘/
Haste, and our father’s sacred seat attend;	10	··//˘/˘·˘/
I go to find the architect divine,	10	·····/˘·˘/
Where vast Olympus’ starry summits shine:	10	··˘/˘/˘/˘·
So tell our hoary sire”—This charge she gave:	10	··//˘/····
The sea-green sisters plunge beneath the wave:	10	···/˘·····
Thetis once more ascends the bless’d abodes,	10	/˘··˘/··˘/
And treads the brazen threshold of the gods.	10	···/˘/····
And now the Greeks from furious Hector’s force,	10	·····/˘/˘·
Urge to broad Hellespont their headlong course;	10	···/˘˘·/··
Nor yet their chiefs Patroclus’ body bore	10	·······/˘·
Safe through the tempest to the tented shore.	10	···/˘··/˘·
The horse, the foot, with equal fury join’d,	10	·····/˘/˘·
Pour’d on the rear, and thunder’d close behind:	10	·····/˘···
And like a flame through fields of ripen’d corn,	10	·······/˘·
The rage of Hector o’er the ranks was borne.	10	···/˘·····
Thrice the slain hero by the foot he drew;	10	···/˘·····
Thrice to the skies the Trojan clamours flew:	10	·····/˘/˘·
As oft the Ajaces his assault sustain;	11	·······˘/˘/
But check’d, he turns; repuls’d, attacks again.	10	····˘/˘/˘/
With fiercer shouts his lingering troops he fires,	10	·/˘··/˘··/
Nor yields a step, nor from his post retires:	10	········˘/
So watchful shepherds strive to force, in vain,	10	·/˘/˘·····
The hungry lion from a carcase slain.	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Even yet Patroclus had he borne away,	10	/·······˘/
And all the glories of the extended day,	11	···/˘··˘/˘·
Had not high Juno from the realms of air,	10	···/˘·····
Secret, despatch’d her trusty messenger.	10	/˘···/˘/˘˘
The various goddess of the showery bow,	11	·/˘/˘··/˘˘·
Shot in a whirlwind to the shore below;	10	···/······
To great Achilles at his ships she came,	10	··˘/˘·····
And thus began the many-colour’d dame:	10	··˘/·/˘/˘·
“Rise, son of Peleus! rise, divinely brave!	10	······˘/˘·
Assist the combat, and Patroclus save:	10	˘/·/˘·····
For him the slaughter to the fleet they spread,	10	···/˘·····
And fall by mutual wounds around the dead.	10	···/˘·····
To drag him back to Troy the foe contends:	10	········˘/
Nor with his death the rage of Hector ends:	10	·······/˘·
A prey to dogs he dooms the corse to lie,	10	··········
And marks the place to fix his head on high.	10	··········
Rise, and prevent (if yet you think of fame)	10	··˘/······
Thy friend’s disgrace, thy own eternal shame!”	10	··˘/··˘/˘·
“Who sends thee, goddess, from the ethereal skies?”	11	···/˘··˘/˘·
Achilles thus. And Iris thus replies:	10	˘/˘··/˘·˘/
“I come, Pelides! from the queen of Jove,	10	··········
The immortal empress of the realms above;	11	·˘/˘/˘·····
Unknown to him who sits remote on high,	10	˘/····˘/··
Unknown to all the synod of the sky.”	10	˘/···/˘···
“Thou comest in vain (he cries, with fury warm’d);	11	········/˘·
Arms I have none, and can I fight unarm’d?	10	········˘/
Unwilling as I am, of force I stay,	10	˘/˘·······
Till Thetis bring me at the dawn of day	10	·/˘·······
Vulcanian arms: what other can I wield,	11	˘/˘˘··/˘···
Except the mighty Telamonian shield?	10	···/˘·····
That, in my friend’s defence, has Ajax spread,	10	····˘/·/··
While his strong lance around him heaps the dead:	10	··········
The gallant chief defends Menoetius’ son,	10	·/˘·˘/····
And does what his Achilles should have done.”	10	····˘/˘···
“Thy want of arms (said Iris) well we know;	10	·····/˘···
But though unarm’d, yet clad in terrors, go!	10	··˘/···/˘·
Let but Achilles o’er yon trench appear,	10	··˘/˘···˘/
Proud Troy shall tremble, and consent to fear;	10	···/˘·˘/··
Greece from one glance of that tremendous eye	10	······˘/˘·
Shall take new courage, and disdain to fly.”	10	···/˘·˘/··
She spoke, and pass’d in air. The hero rose:	10	·······/˘·
Her ægis Pallas o’er his shoulder throws;	10	·······/˘·
Around his brows a golden cloud she spread;	10	·····/˘···
A stream of glory flamed above his head.	10	···/˘·····
As when from some beleaguer’d town arise	10	····˘/˘·˘/
The smokes, high curling to the shaded skies;	10	···/˘··/˘·
(Seen from some island, o’er the main afar,	10	···/˘···˘/
When men distress’d hang out the sign of war;)	10	··˘/······
Soon as the sun in ocean hides his rays,	10	·····/˘···
Thick on the hills the flaming beacons blaze;	10	·····/˘/˘·
With long-projected beams the seas are bright,	10	··˘/˘·····
And heaven’s high arch reflects the ruddy light:	11	·/˘··˘/·/˘·
So from Achilles’ head the splendours rise,	10	··˘/˘··/˘·
Reflecting blaze on blaze against the skies.	10	˘/˘·······
Forth march’d the chief, and distant from the crowd,	10	·····/˘···
High on the rampart raised his voice aloud;	10	···/˘···˘/
With her own shout Minerva swells the sound;	10	····˘/˘···
Troy starts astonish’d, and the shores rebound.	10	··˘/˘···˘/
As the loud trumpet’s brazen mouth from far	10	···/˘/˘···
With shrilling clangour sounds the alarm of war,	11	·/˘····˘/··
Struck from the walls, the echoes float on high,	10	·····/˘···
And the round bulwarks and thick towers reply;	10	···/˘··/˘/
So high his brazen voice the hero rear’d:	10	···/˘··/˘·
Hosts dropp’d their arms, and trembled as they heard:	10	·····/˘···
And back the chariots roll, and coursers bound,	10	···/˘··/˘·
And steeds and men lie mingled on the ground.	10	·····/˘···
Aghast they see the living lightnings play,	10	˘/···/˘/˘·
And turn their eyeballs from the flashing ray.	10	···/···/˘·
Thrice from the trench his dreadful voice he raised,	10	·····/˘···
And thrice they fled, confounded and amazed.	10	····˘/˘·˘/
Twelve in the tumult wedged, untimely rush’d	10	···/˘·˘/˘·
On their own spears, by their own chariots crush’d:	10	·······/˘·
While, shielded from the darts, the Greeks obtain	10	·/˘·····˘/
The long-contended carcase of the slain.	10	··˘/˘/˘···
A lofty bier the breathless warrior bears:	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
Around, his sad companions melt in tears.	10	····˘/˘···
But chief Achilles, bending down his head,	10	··˘/˘/˘···
Pours unavailing sorrows o’er the dead,	10	··˘/˘/˘···
Whom late triumphant, with his steeds and car,	10	··˘/˘·····
He sent refulgent to the field of war;	10	··˘/˘·····
(Unhappy change!) now senseless, pale, he found,	10	˘/˘··/˘···
Stretch’d forth, and gash’d with many a gaping wound.	10	·····/·/˘·
Meantime, unwearied with his heavenly way,	10	/·˘/˘··/˘·
In ocean’s waves the unwilling light of day	11	·/˘··˘/˘···
Quench’d his red orb, at Juno’s high command,	10	·····/˘·˘/
And from their labours eased the Achaian band.	10	···/˘·····
The frighted Trojans (panting from the war,	10	·/˘/˘/˘···
Their steeds unharness’d from the weary car)	10	·······/˘·
A sudden council call’d: each chief appear’d	10	·/˘/˘···˘/
In haste, and standing; for to sit they fear’d.	10	···/˘·····
’Twas now no season for prolong’d debate;	10	···/˘·˘/˘/
They saw Achilles, and in him their fate.	10	··˘/˘·····
Silent they stood: Polydamas at last,	10	/˘········
Skill’d to discern the future by the past,	10	··˘/·/˘···
The son of Panthus, thus express’d his fears	10	······˘/··
(The friend of Hector, and of equal years;	10	···/˘··/˘·
The self-same night to both a being gave,	10	·······/˘·
One wise in council, one in action brave):	10	···/˘··/˘·
“In free debate, my friends, your sentence speak;	10	··˘/···/˘·
For me, I move, before the morning break,	10	·······/˘·
To raise our camp: too dangerous here our post,	10	··/··/˘·/·
Far from Troy walls, and on a naked coast.	10	·······/˘·
I deem’d not Greece so dreadful, while engaged	10	·····/˘·˘/
In mutual feuds her king and hero raged;	10	·/˘····/˘·
Then, while we hoped our armies might prevail	10	····//˘·˘/
We boldly camp’d beside a thousand sail.	10	·/˘·˘/·/˘·
I dread Pelides now: his rage of mind	10	··········
Not long continues to the shores confined,	10	··˘/˘···˘/
Nor to the fields, where long in equal fray	10	·······/˘·
Contending nations won and lost the day;	10	˘/˘/˘·····
For Troy, for Troy, shall henceforth be the strife,	10	·····//···
And the hard contest not for fame, but life.	10	···/˘·····
Haste then to Ilion, while the favouring night	10	·······/˘·
Detains these terrors, keeps that arm from fight.	10	˘/·/˘·····
If but the morrow’s sun behold us here,	10	···/˘·˘/··
That arm, those terrors, we shall feel, not fear;	10	···/˘·····
And hearts that now disdain, shall leap with joy,	10	····˘/····
If heaven permit them then to enter Troy.	10	·/˘/···/˘·
Let not my fatal prophecy be true,	10	···/˘/˘˘··
Nor what I tremble but to think, ensue.	10	···/˘···˘/
Whatever be our fate, yet let us try	10	·/˘·/·····
What force of thought and reason can supply;	10	·····/˘·˘/
Let us on counsel for our guard depend;	10	···/˘·/·˘/
The town her gates and bulwarks shall defend.	10	·····/˘·˘/
When morning dawns, our well-appointed powers,	11	·/˘·/·˘/˘/˘
Array’d in arms, shall line the lofty towers.	11	˘/·····/˘/˘
Let the fierce hero, then, when fury calls,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Vent his mad vengeance on our rocky walls,	10	···/˘·//˘·
Or fetch a thousand circles round the plain,	10	···/˘/˘···
Till his spent coursers seek the fleet again:	10	···/˘···˘/
So may his rage be tired, and labour’d down!	10	·····/····
And dogs shall tear him ere he sack the town.”	10	··········
“Return! (said Hector, fired with stern disdain)	10	˘/·/˘/··˘/
What! coop whole armies in our walls again?	10	···/˘·/·˘/
Was’t not enough, ye valiant warriors, say,	10	··˘/·/˘/˘·
Nine years imprison’d in those towers ye lay?	10	··˘/˘··/··
Wide o’er the world was Ilion famed of old	10	··········
For brass exhaustless, and for mines of gold:	10	··˘/˘·····
But while inglorious in her walls we stay’d,	10	··˘/˘·····
Sunk were her treasures, and her stores decay’d;	10	···/˘···˘/
The Phrygians now her scatter’d spoils enjoy,	10	·/˘··/˘·˘/
And proud Mæonia wastes the fruits of Troy.	9	·········
Great Jove at length my arms to conquest calls,	10	·······/˘·
And shuts the Grecians in their wooden walls,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Darest thou dispirit whom the gods incite?	11	···˘/˘···˘/
Flies any Trojan? I shall stop his flight.	10	·/˘/˘·····
To better counsel then attention lend;	10	·/˘/˘·˘/˘·
Take due refreshment, and the watch attend.	10	··˘/˘···˘/
If there be one whose riches cost him care,	10	·····/˘···
Forth let him bring them for the troops to share;	10	··········
’Tis better generously bestow’d on those,	10	·/˘/˘˘˘/··
Than left the plunder of our country’s foes.	10	···/˘·//˘·
Soon as the morn the purple orient warms,	11	·····/˘/˘··
Fierce on yon navy will we pour our arms.	10	···/˘···/·
If great Achilles rise in all his might,	10	··˘/˘·····
His be the danger: I shall stand the fight.	10	···/˘·····
Honour, ye gods! or let me gain or give;	10	/˘········
And live he glorious, whosoe’er shall live!	10	···/˘˘····
Mars is our common lord, alike to all;	10	··//˘·˘/··
And oft the victor triumphs, but to fall.”	10	···/˘/˘···
The shouting host in loud applauses join’d;	10	·/˘···˘/˘·
So Pallas robb’d the many of their mind;	10	·····/˘···
To their own sense condemn’d, and left to choose	10	····˘/····
The worst advice, the better to refuse.	10	··˘/·/˘·˘/
While the long night extends her sable reign,	10	····˘/·/˘·
Around Patroclus mourn’d the Grecian train.	10	·······/˘·
Stern in superior grief Pelides stood;	10	··˘/˘·····
Those slaughtering arms, so used to bathe in blood,	10	·/˘·······
Now clasp his clay-cold limbs: then gushing start	10	·······/˘·
The tears, and sighs burst from his swelling heart.	10	·······/˘·
The lion thus, with dreadful anguish stung,	10	·/˘··/˘/˘·
Roars through the desert, and demands his young;	10	···/˘·˘/··
When the grim savage, to his rifled den	10	···/˘··/˘·
Too late returning, snuffs the track of men,	10	··˘/˘·····
And o’er the vales and o’er the forest bounds;	10	·······/˘·
His clamorous grief the bellowing wood resounds.	11	·/˘˘··/˘··/
So grieves Achilles; and, impetuous, vents	10	··˘/˘·˘/˘·
To all his Myrmidons his loud laments.	10	···/˘˘··˘/
“In what vain promise, gods! did I engage,	10	···/˘···˘/
When to console Menoetius’ feeble age,	10	··˘/···/˘·
I vowed his much-loved offspring to restore,	10	·····/··˘/
Charged with rich spoils, to fair Opuntia’s shore?	10	··········
But mighty Jove cuts short, with just disdain,	10	·/˘·····˘/
The long, long views of poor designing man!	10	······˘/˘·
One fate the warrior and the friend shall strike,	10	···/˘·····
And Troy’s black sands must drink our blood alike:	10	······/·˘/
Me too a wretched mother shall deplore,	10	···/˘/˘·˘/
An aged father never see me more!	9	··/˘/˘···
Yet, my Patroclus! yet a space I stay,	10	··········
Then swift pursue thee on the darksome way.	10	··˘/···/˘·
Ere thy dear relics in the grave are laid,	10	···/˘·····
Shall Hector’s head be offer’d to thy shade;	10	·/˘··/˘···
That, with his arms, shall hang before thy shrine;	10	··········
And twelve, the noblest of the Trojan line,	10	···/˘··/˘·
Sacred to vengeance, by this hand expire;	10	/˘·/˘···˘/
Their lives effused around thy flaming pyre.	11	·······/˘/˘
Thus let me lie till then! thus, closely press’d,	10	·······/˘·
Bathe thy cold face, and sob upon thy breast!	10	··········
While Trojan captives here thy mourners stay,	10	·/˘/˘··/˘·
Weep all the night and murmur all the day:	10	·····/˘···

The first 400 of 712 lines; the reader marks them all.

Notes from the edition 8

Notes by Theodore Alois Buckley to Pope's Iliad (1899 edition, Project Gutenberg #6130).

Stanza 1, line 1 This is connected with the earlier part of last book, the regular narrative being interrupted by the message of Antilochus and the lamentations of Achilles.
Stanza 4, line 1 Far in the deep. So Oceanus hears the lamentations of Prometheus, in the play of Æschylus, and comes from the depths of the sea to comfort him.
Stanza 25, line 4 Opuntia, a city of Locris.
Stanza 37, line 3 Quintus Calaber, lib. v., has attempted to rival Homer in his description of the shield of the same hero. A few extracts from Mr. Dyce’s version (Select Translations, p. 104, seq.) may here be introduced. “In the wide circle of the shield were seen Refulgent images of various forms, The work of Vulcan; who had there described The heaven, the ether, and the earth and sea, The winds, the clouds, the moon, the sun, apart In different stations; and you there might view The stars that gem the still-revolving heaven, And, under them, the vast expanse of air, In which, with outstretch’d wings, the long-beak’d bird Winnow’d the gale, as if instinct with life. Around the shield the waves of ocean flow’d, The realms of Tethys, which unnumber’d streams, In azure mazes rolling o’er the earth, Seem’d to augment.”
Stanza 39, line 9 On seats of stone. “Several of the old northern Sagas represent the old men assembled for the purpose of judging as sitting on great stones, in a circle called the Urtheilsring or gerichtsring”— Grote, ii. p. 100, note. On the independence of the judicial office in The heroic times, see Thirlwall’s Greece, vol. i. p. 166.
Stanza 40, line 1 Another part, &c. “And here Were horrid wars depicted; grimly pale Were heroes lying with their slaughter’d steeds Upon the ground incarnadin’d with blood. Stern stalked Bellona, smear’d with reeking gore, Through charging ranks; beside her Rout was seen, And Terror, Discord to the fatal strife Inciting men, and Furies breathing flames: Nor absent were the Fates, and the tall shape Of ghastly Death, round whom did Battles throng, Their limbs distilling plenteous blood and sweat; And Gorgons, whose long locks were twisting snakes. That shot their forky tongues incessant forth. Such were the horrors of dire war.” —Dyce’s Calaber.
Stanza 41, line 1 A field deep furrowed. “Here was a corn field; reapers in a row, Each with a sharp-tooth’d sickle in his hand, Work’d busily, and, as the harvest fell, Others were ready still to bind the sheaves: Yoked to a wain that bore the corn away The steers were moving; sturdy bullocks here The plough were drawing, and the furrow’d glebe Was black behind them, while with goading wand The active youths impell’d them. Here a feast Was graved: to the shrill pipe and ringing lyre A band of blooming virgins led the dance. As if endued with life.” —Dyce’s Calaber.
Stanza 48, line 8 Coleridge (Greek Classic Poets, p. 182, seq.) has diligently compared this with the description of the shield of Hercules by Hesiod. He remarks that, “with two or three exceptions, the imagery differs in little more than the names and arrangements; and the difference of arrangement in the Shield of Hercules is altogether for the worse. The natural consecution of the Homeric images needs no exposition: it constitutes in itself one of the beauties of the work. The Hesiodic images are huddled together without connection or congruity: Mars and Pallas are awkwardly introduced among the Centaurs and Lapithae;— but the gap is wide indeed between them and Apollo with the Muses, waking the echoes of Olympus to celestial harmonies; whence however, we are hurried back to Perseus, the Gorgons, and other images of war, over an arm of the sea, in which the sporting dolphins, the fugitive fishes, and the fisherman on the shore with his casting net, are minutely represented. As to the Hesiodic images themselves, the leading remark is, that they catch at beauty by ornament, and at sublimity by exaggeration; and upon the untenable supposition of the genuineness of this poem, there is this curious peculiarity, that, in the description of scenes of rustic peace, the superiority of Homer is decisive—while in those of war and tumult it may be thought, perhaps, that the Hesiodic poet has more than once the advantage.”

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