Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/293

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850—898
BOOK XV
291

Troy in proud hopes already viewed the main
Bright with the blaze, and red with heroes slain:
Like strength is felt from hope, and from despair,
And each contends, as his were all the war.
'Twas thou, bold Hector! whose resistless hand
First seized a ship on that contested strand;
The same which dead Protesilaiis bore,
The first that touched the unhappy Trojan shore.
For this in arms the warring nations stood,
And bathed their generous breasts with mutual blood.
No room to poise the lance, or bend the bow;
But hand to hand, and man to man they grow:
Wounded, they wound; and seek each other's hearts
With faulchions, axes, swords, and shortened darts.
The faulchions ring, shields rattle, axes sound,
Swords flash in air, or glitter on the ground:
With streaming blood the slippery shores are dyed,
And slaughtered heroes swell the dreadful tide.
Still raging Hector with his ample hand
Grasps the high stern, and gives his loud command:
"Haste, bring the flames! the toil of ten long years
Is finished, and the day desired appears;
This happy day with acclamations greet,
Bright with destruction of yon hostile fleet.
The coward counsels of a timorous throng
Of reverend dotards, checked our glory long:
Too long Jove lulled us with lethargic charms,
But now in peals of thunder calls to arms;
In this great day he crowns our full desires,
Wakes all our force, and seconds all our fires."
He spoke. The warriors, at his fierce command,
Pour a new deluge on the Grecian band.
E'en Ajax paused, so thick the javelins fly,
Stepped back, and doubted or to live or die.
Yet where the oars are placed, he stands to wait
What chief approaching dares attempt his fate:
E'en to the last his naval charge defends,
Now shakes his spear, now lifts, and now protends;
E'en yet, the Greeks with piercing shouts inspires,
Amidst attacks, and deaths, and darts, and fires:
"O friends! O heroes! names for ever dear,
Once sons of Mars, and thunderbolts of war!
Ah I yet be mindful of your old renown,
Your great forefathers' virtues and your own
What aids expect you in this utmost strait?
What bulwarks rising between you and fate?
No aids, no bulwarks, your retreat attend,
No friends to help, no city to defend;
This spot is all you have, to lose or keep;