BOOK XXI
THE ARGUMENT
THE BATTLE IN THE RIVER SCAMANDER
And now to Xanthus' gliding stream they drove,
Xanthus, immortal progeny of Jove.
The river here divides the flying train:
Part to the town fly diverse o'er the plain,
Where late their troops triumphant bore the fight,
Now chased and trembling in ignoble flight:
These with a gathered mist Saturnia shrouds,
And rolls behind the rout a heap of clouds:
Part plunge into the stream: old Xanthus roars;
The flashing billows beat the whitened shores:
With cries promiscuous all the banks resound,
And here and there, in eddies whirling round,
The flouncing steeds and shrieking warriors drowned,
As the scorched locusts from their fields retire,
While fast behind them runs the blaze of fire;
Driven from the land before the smoky cloud,
The clustering legions rush into the flood:
So plunged in Xanthus by Achilles' force,
Roars the resounding surge with men and horse.
His bloody lance the hero casts aside,
Which spreading tamarisks on the margin hide,
Then, like a god, the rapid billows braves,
Armed with his sword, high brandished o'er the waves;
Now down he plunges, now he whirls it round,
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