Page:Atalanta in Calydon - a tragedy (IA atalantaincalydo00swinrich).pdf/84

 So through crushed branches and the reddening brake Clamoured and crashed the fervour of his feet, And trampled, springing sideways from the tusk, Too tardy a moving mould of heavy strength, Ancæus; and as flakes of weak-winged snow Break, all the hard thews of his heaving limbs Broke, and rent flesh fell every way, and blood Flew, and fierce fragments of no more a man. Then all the heroes drew sharp breath, and gazed, And smote not; but Meleager, but thy son, Right in the wild way of the coming curse Rock-rooted, fair with fierce and fastened lips, Clear eyes, and springing muscle and shortening limb— With chin aslant indrawn to a tightening throat, Grave, and with gathered sinews, like a god,— Aimed on the left side his well-handled spear Grasped where the ash was knottiest hewn, and smote, And with no missile wound, the monstrous boar Right in the hairiest hollow of his hide Under the last rib, sheer through bulk and bone, Deep in; and deeply smitten, and to death, The heavy horror with his hanging shafts Leapt, and fell furiously, and from raging lips Foamed out the latest wrath of all his life. And all they praised the gods with mightier heart, Zeus and all gods, but chiefliest Artemis, Seeing; but Meleager bade whet knives and flay,