Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/206

204 That blaze to heaven, and lighten all the fields.

That instant Juno and the martial Maid

In happy thunders promised Greece their aid;

High o'er the chief they clashed their arms in air,

And, leaning from the clouds, expect the war.

Close to the limits of the trench and mound,

The fiery coursers, to their chariots bound,

The squires restrained; the foot, with those who wield

The lighter arms, rush forward to the field.

To second these, in close array combined,

The squadrons spread their sable wings behind.

Now shouts and tumults wake the tardy sun,

As with the light the warriors' toils begun;

E'en Jove, whose thunder spoke his wrath, distilled

Red drops of blood o'er all the fatal field;

The woes of men unwilling to survey,

And all the slaughters that must stain the day.

Near Ilus' tomb in order ranged around,

The Trojan lines possessed the rising ground.

There wise Polydamas and Hector stood;

Æneas, honoured as a guardian god;

Bold Polybus, Agenor the divine;

The brother-warriors of Antenor's line;

With youthful Acamas, whose beauteous face

And fair proportion matched the ethereal race.

Great Hector, covered with his spacious shield, Plies all the troops, and orders all the field. As the red star now shows his sanguine fires Through the dark clouds, and now in night retires; Thus through the ranks appeared the godlike man, Plunged in the rear, or blazing in the van; While streamy sparkles, restless as he flies, Flash from his arms, as lightning from the skies. As sweating reapers in some wealthy field, Ranged in two bands, their crooked weapons wield, Bear down the furrows till their labours meet; Thick fall the heapy harvests at their feet: So Greece and Troy the field of war divide, And falling ranks are strewed on every side. None stooped a thought to base inglorious flight, But horse to horse and man to man they fight. Not rabid wolves more fierce contest their prey; Each wounds, each bleeds, but none resign the day. Discord with joy the scene of death descries, And drinks large slaughter at her sanguine eyes: Discord alone, of all the immortal train, Swells the red horrors of this direful plain: The gods in peace their golden mansions fill, Ranged in bright order on the Olympian hill;