The fifth reward, the double bowl, remained.
Achilles this to reverend Nestor bears,
And thus the purpose of his gift declares:
"Accept thou this, O sacred sire," he said,
"In dear memorial of Patroclus dead;
Dead, and for ever lost, Patroclus lies,
For ever snatched from our desiring eyes!
Take thou this token of a grateful heart:
Though 'tis not thine to hurl the distant dart,
The quoit to toss, the ponderous mace to wield,
Or urge the race, or wrestle on the field:
Thy pristine vigour age has overthrown,
But left the glory of the past thy own."
He said, and placed the goblet at his side:
With joy the venerable king replied:
"Wisely and well, my son, thy words have proved
A senior honoured and a friend beloved!
Too true it is, deserted of my strength,
These withered arms and limbs have failed at length.
Oh! had I now that force I felt of yore,
Known through Buprasium and the Pylian shore!
Victorious then in every solemn game,
Ordained to Amarynces' mighty name;
The brave Epeians gave my glory way,
Ætolians, Pylians, all resigned the day.
I quelled Clytomedes in fights of hand,
And backward hurled Ancseus on the sand,
Surpassed Iphiclus in the swift career,
Phyleus and Polydorus, with the spear:
The sons of Actor won the prize of horse,
But won by numbers, nor by art or force:
For the famed twins, impatient to survey
Prize after prize by Nestor borne away,
Sprung to their car; and with united pains
One lashed the coursers, while one ruled the reins.
Such once I was! Now to these tasks succeeds
A younger race, that emulate our deeds:
I yield—alas! to age who must not yield?—
Though once the foremost hero of the field.
Go thou, my son! by generous friendship led,
With martial honours decorate the dead;
While pleased I take the gift thy hands present,
Pledge of benevolence, and kind intent;
Rejoiced, of all the numerous Greeks, to see
Not one but honours sacred age and me:
Those due distinctions thou so well canst pay
May the just gods return another day.
Proud of the gift, thus spake the Full of Days:
Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/421
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704—752
BOOK XXIII
419