Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/259

To combat; strength is of the gods alone."
These words the hero's angry mind assuage;
Then fierce they mingle where the thickest rage.
Around Polydamas, distained with blood,
Cebrion, Phalces, stern Orthæus, stood;
Palmus, with Polypœtes the divine,
And two bold brothers of Hippotion's line,
Who reached fair Ilion, from Ascania far,
The former day; the next, engaged in war.
As when from gloomy clouds a whirlwind springs,
That bears Jove's thunder on its dreadful wings,
Wide o'er the blasted fields the tempest sweeps,
Then, gathered, settles on the hoary deeps;
The afflicted deeps tumultuous mix and roar;
The waves behind impel the waves before,
Wide-rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore:
Thus rank on rank the chief battalions throng,
Chief urged on chief, and man drove man along:
Far o'er the plains in dreadful order bright,
The brazen arms reflect a beamy light.
Full in the blazing van great Hector shined,
Like Mars commissioned to confound mankind.
Before him flaming, his enormous shield,
Like the broad sun, illumined all the field;
His nodding helm emits a streamy ray;
His piercing eyes through all the battle stray,
And, while beneath his targe he flashed along,
Shot terrors round, that withered even the strong.
Thus stalked he dreadful; death was in his look;
Whole nations feared; but not an Argive shook.
The towering Ajax, with an ample stride,
Advanced the first, and thus the chief defied:
"Hector! come on, thy empty threats forbear:
'Tis not thy arm, 'tis thundering Jove, we fear:
The skill of war to us not idly given,
Lo! Greece is humbled, not by Troy, but heaven.
Vain are the hopes that haughty mind imparts
To force our fleet: the Greeks have hands and hearts.
Long ere in flames our lofty navy fall,
Your boasted city, and your god-built wall,
Shall sink beneath us, smoking on the ground;
And spread a long unmeasured ruin round.
The time shall come, when, chased along the plain,
E'en thou shalt call on Jove, and call in vain;
E'en thou shalt wish, to aid thy desperate course,
The wings of falcons for thy flying horse;
Shalt run, forgetful of a warrior's fame,
While clouds of friendly dust conceal thy shame."
As thus he spoke, behold, in open view,