Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/222

220 My sire three hundred chosen sheep obtained—

That large reprisal he might justly claim,

For prize defrauded, and insulted fame;

When Elis' monarch at the public course

Detained his chariot, and victorious horse—

The rest the people shared; myself surveyed

The just partition, and due victims paid.

Three days were past, when Elis rose to war,

With many a courser, and with many a car;

The sons of Actor at their army's head,

Young as they were, the vengeful squadrons led.

High on a rock fair Thryoëssa stands,

Our utmost frontier on the Pylian lands;

Not far the streams of famed Alphæus flow;

The stream they passed, and pitched their tents below

Pallas, descending in the shades of night,

Alarms the Pylians, and commands the fight.

Each burns for fame, and swells with martial pride;

Myself the foremost; but my sire denied;

Feared for my youth, exposed to stern alarms,

And stopped my chariot, and detained my arms.

My sire denied in vain: on foot I fled

Amidst our chariots: for the goddess led.

"Along fair Arene's delightful plain,

Soft Minyas rolls his waters to the main;

There, horse and foot, the Pylian troops unite,

And, sheathed in arms, expect the dawning light;

Thence, ere the sun advanced his noonday flame,

To great Alphæus' sacred source we came.

There first to Jove our solemn rites were paid;

An untamed heifer pleased the blue-eyed Maid,

A bull Alphæus; and a bull was slain

To the blue monarch of the watery main.

In arms we slept, beside the winding flood,

While round the town the fierce Epeians stood.

Soon as the sun, with all-revealing ray,

Flamed in the front of heaven, and gave the day,

Bright scenes of arms, and works of war appear;

The nations meet; there Pylos, Elis here.

The first who fell, beneath my javelin bled;

King Augias' son, and spouse of Agamede:

She that all simples' healing virtues knew,

And every nerve that drinks the morning dew.

I seized his car, the van of battle led;

The Epeians saw, they trembled, and they fled.

The foe dispersed, their bravest warrior killed,

Fierce as a whirlwind now I swept the field:

Full fifty captive chariots graced my train;

Two chiefs from each fell breathless to the plain.