Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/295



warred both armies on the ensanguined shore,

While the black vessels smoked with human gore.

Meantime Patroclus to Achilles flies;

The streaming tears fall copious from his eyes;

Not faster, trickling to the plains below,

From the tall rock the sable waters flow.

Divine Pelides, with compassion moved,

Thus spoke, indulgent to his best beloved:

"Patroclus, say, what grief thy bosom bears,

That flows so fast in these unmanly tears?

No girl, no infant whom the mother keeps

From her loved breast, with fonder passion weeps;

Not more the mother's soul that infant warms,

Clung to her knees, and reaching at her arms,

Than thou hast mine! Oh, tell me to what end

Thy melting sorrows thus pursue thy friend?

"Grievest thou for me, or for my martial band?

Or come sad tidings from our native land?

Our fathers live, our first, most tender care,

Thy good Menoetius breathes the vital air,

And hoary Peleus yet extends his days,

Pleased in their age to hear their children's praise.

"Or may some meaner cause thy pity claim?