Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/275



Now in swift flight they pass the trench profound,

And many a chief lay gasping on the ground;

Then stopped and panted, where the chariots lie;

Fear on their cheek, and horror in their eye.

Meanwhile, awakened from his dream of love,

On Ida's summit sat imperial Jove;

Round the wide fields he cast a careful view,

There saw the Trojans fly, the Greeks pursue;

These proud in arms, those scattered o'er the plain;

And, midst the war, the monarch of the main.

Not far, great Hector on the dust he spies,

His sad associates round with weeping eyes,

Ejecting blood, and panting yet for breath,

His senses wandering to the verge of death.

The god beheld him with a pitying look,

And thus incensed, to fraudful Juno spoke:

"O thou, still adverse to the eternal will,

For ever studious in promoting ill!

Thy arts have made the godlike Hector yield,

And driven his conquering squadrons from the field.

Canst thou, unhappy in thy wiles, withstand

Our power immense, and brave the almighty hand?

Hast thou forgot, when, bound and fixed on high,

From the vast concave of the spangled sky,