Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/290

288 Has torn the shepherd's dog, or shepherd swain;

While, conscious of the deed, he glares around,

And hears the gathering multitudes resound,

Timely he flies the yet untasted food,

And gains the friendly shelter of the wood.

So fears the youth; all Troy with shouts pursue,

While stones and darts in mingled tempests flew;

But, entered in the Grecian ranks, he turns

His manly breast, and with new fury burns.

Now on the fleet the tides of Trojans drove,

Fierce to fulfil the stern decrees of Jove:

The sire of gods, confirming Thetis' prayer,

The Grecian ardour quenched in deep despair;

But lifts to glory Troy's prevailing bands,

Swells all their hearts, and strengthens all their hands.

On Ida's top he waits with longing eyes,

To view the navy blazing to the skies;

Then, nor till then, the scale of war shall turn,

The Trojans fly, and conquered Ilion burn.

These fates revolved in his almighty mind,

He raises Hector to the work designed,

Bids him with more than mortal fury glow,

And drives him, like a lightning, on the foe.

So Mars, when human crimes for vengeance call,

Shakes his huge javelin, and whole armies fall.

Not with more rage a conflagration rolls,

Wraps the vast mountains, and involves the poles.

He foams with wrath; beneath his gloomy brow

Like fiery meteors his red eyeballs glow:

The radiant helmet on his temple burns,

Waves when he nods, and lightens as he turns:

For Jove his splendour round the chief had thrown,

And cast the blaze of both the hosts on one.

Unhappy glories! for his fate was near,

Due to stern Pallas, and Pelides' spear:

Yet Jove deferred the death he was to pay,

And gave what Fate allowed, the honours of a day!

Now all on fire for fame, his breast, his eyes

Burn at each foe, and single every prize;

Still at the closest ranks, the thickest fight,

He points his ardour, and exerts his might.

The Grecian phalanx, moveless as a tower,

On all sides battered, yet resists his power:

So some tall rock o'erhangs the hoary main,

By winds assailed, by billows beat in vain;

Unmoved it hears, above, the tempest blow,

And sees the watery mountains break below.

Girt in surrounding flames, he seems to fall

Like fire from Jove, and bursts upon them all;