Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/308

306 To lead my troops, to combat at their head,

Incite the living, and supply the dead.

Tell them, I charged them with my latest breath

Not unrevenged to bear Sarpedon's death.

What grief, what shame, must Glaucus undergo,

If these spoiled arms adorn a Grecian foe!

Then as a friend, and as a warrior, fight;

Defend my body, conquer in my right;

That, taught by great examples, all may try

Like thee to vanquish, or like me to die."

He ceased; the fates suppressed his labouring breath,

And his eyes darkened with the shades of death.

The insulting victor with disdain bestrode

The prostrate prince, and on his bosom trod;

Then drew the weapon from his panting heart,

The reeking fibres clinging to the dart;

From the wide wound gushed out a stream of blood,

And the soul issued in the purple flood.

His flying steeds the Myrmidons detain,

Unguided now, their mighty master slain.

All-impotent of aid, transfixed with grief,

Unhappy Glaucus heard the dying chief.

His painful arm, yet useless with the smart

Inflicted late by Teucer's deadly dart,

Supported on his better hand he stayed:

To Phœbus then—'twas all he could—he prayed:

"All-seeing monarch! whether Lycia's coast,

Or sacred Ilion, thy bright presence boast,

Powerful alike to ease the wretch's smart;

O hear me! god of every healing art!

Lo! stiff with clotted blood, and pierced with pain,

That thrills my arm, and shoots through every vein,

I stand unable to sustain the spear,

And sigh, at distance from the glorious war.

Low in the dust is great Sarpedon laid,

Nor Jove vouchsafed his hapless offspring aid;

But thou, O god of health, thy succour lend,

To guard the reliques of my slaughtered friend.

For thou, though distant, canst restore my might,

To head my Lycians, and support the fight"

Apollo heard; and, suppliant as he stood,

His heavenly hand restrained the flux of blood;

He drew the dolours from the wounded part,

And breathed a spirit in his rising heart.

Renewed by art divine, the hero stands,

And owns the assistance of immortal hands.

First to the fight his native troops he warms,

Then loudly calls on Troy's vindictive arms;

With ample strides he stalks from place to place,