Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/413

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313—360
BOOK XXIII
411

Next the white bones his sad companions place,
With tears collected, in the golden vase.
The sacred relics to the tent they bore;
The urn a veil of linen covered o'er.
That done, they bid the sepulchre aspire,
And cast the deep foundations round the pyre;
High in the midst they heap the swelling bed
Of rising earth, memorial of the dead.
The swarming populace the chief detains,
And leads amidst a wide extent of plains;
There placed them round; then from the ships proceeds
A train of oxen, mules, and stately steeds,
Vases and tripods, for the funeral games,
Resplendent brass, and more resplendent dames.
First stood the prizes to reward the force
Of rapid racers in the dusty course:
A woman for the first, in beauty's bloom,
Skilled in the needle, and the labouring loom;
And a large vase, where two bright handles rise,
Of twenty measures its capacious size.
The second victor claims a mare unbroke,
Big with a mule, unknowing of the yoke;
The third, a charger yet untouched by flame;
Four ample measures held the shining frame:
Two golden talents for the fourth were placed;
An ample double bowl[1] contents the last.
These in fair order ranged upon the plain,
The hero, rising, thus addressed the train:
"Behold the prizes, valiant Greeks! decreed
To the brave rulers of the racing steed;
Prizes which none beside ourself could gain,
Should our immortal coursers take the plain:
A race unrivalled, which from ocean's god
Peleus received, and on his son bestowed.
But this no time our vigour to display,
Nor suit with them the games of this sad day:
Lost is Patroclus now, that wont to deck
Their flowing manes, and sleek their glossy neck.
Sad, as they shared in human grief, they stand,
And trail those graceful honours on the sand!
Let others for the noble task prepare,
Who trust the courser, and the flying car."
Fired at his word, the rival racers rise;
But, far the first, Eumelus hopes the prize;
Famed through Pieria for the fleetest breed,
And skilled to -manage the high-bounding steed.
With equal ardour bold Tydides swelled,

The steeds of Tros beneath his yoke compelled,
  1. Book i., line 753, page 49.