Or Troy once held, in peace and pride of sway,
Can bribe the poor possession of a day!
Lost herds and treasures we by arms regain,
And steeds unrivalled on the dusty plain:
But from our lips the vital spirit fled,
Returns no more to wake the silent dead.
My fates long since by Thetis were disclosed,
And each alternate, life or fame, proposed:
Here if I stay, before the Trojan town,
Short is my date, but deathless my renown;
If I return, I quit immortal praise
For years on years, and long-extended days.
Convinced, though late, I find my fond mistake,
And warn the Greeks the wiser choice to make;
To quit these shores, their native seats enjoy,
Nor hope the fall of heaven-defended Troy.
Jove's arm displayed asserts her from the skies;
Her hearts are strengthened, and her glories rise.
Go then, to Greece report our fixed design:
Bid all your councils, all your armies join,
Let all your forces, all your arts conspire,
To save the ships, the troops, the chiefs, from fire.
One stratagem has failed, and others will:
Ye find Achilles is unconquered still.
Go then: digest my message as ye may:
But here this night let reverend Phœnix stay:
His tedious toils and hoary hairs demand
A peaceful death in Pthia's friendly land.
But whether he remain, or sail with me,
His age be sacred, and his will be free."
The son of Peleus ceased: the chiefs around
In silence wrapped, in consternation drowned,
Attend the stern reply. Then Phœnix rose:
Down his white beard a stream of sorrow flows:
And while the fate of suffering Greece he mourned,
With accent weak these tender words returned:
"Divine Achilles! wilt thou then retire,
And leave our hosts in blood, our fleets on fire?
If wrath so dreadful fill thy ruthless mind,
How shall thy friend, thy Phœnix, stay behind?
The royal Peleus, when from Pthia's coast
He sent thee early to the Achaian host;
Thy youth as then in sage debates unskilled,
And new to perils of the direful field;
He bade me teach thee all the ways of war;
To shine in councils and in camps to dare.
Never, ah never, let me leave thy side!
No time shall part us, and no fate divide.
Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/182
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
This page has been validated.
180
THE ILIAD
526—574
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/7/7c/Homer_-_Iliad%2C_translation_Pope%2C_1909.djvu/page182-1024px-Homer_-_Iliad%2C_translation_Pope%2C_1909.djvu.jpg)