Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/340

338 Rise, and prevent, if yet you think of fame,

Thy friend's disgrace ; thy own eternal shame!"

"Who sends thee, goddess! from the ethereal skies?"

Achilles thus: and Iris thus replies:

"I come, Pelides, from the queen of Jove,

The immortal empress of the realms above;

Unknown to him who sits remote on high,

Unknown to all the synod of the sky."

"Thou com'st in vain," he cries, with fury warmed,

"Arms I have none, and can I fight unarmed?

Unwilling as I am, of force I stay,

Till Thetis bring me at the dawn of day

Vulcanian arms : what other can I wield,

Except the mighty Telamonian shield?

That, in my friend's defence, has Ajax spread,

While his strong lance around him heaps the dead:

The gallant chief defends Mencetius' son,

And does what his Achilles should have done."

"Thy want of arms," said Iris, "well we know;

But, though unarmed, yet, clad in terrors, go!

Let but Achilles o'er yon trench appear,

Proud Troy shall tremble, and consent to fear;

Greece from one glance of that tremendous eye

Shall take new courage, and disdain to fly."

She spoke, and passed in air. The hero rose :

Her ægis Pallas o'er his shoulder throws:

Around his brows a golden cloud she spread;

A stream of glory flamed above his head.

As when from some beleaguered town arise

The smokes, high curling to the shaded skies;

Seen from some island, o'er the main afar,

When men distressed hang out the sign of war:

Soon as the sun in ocean hides his rays,

Thick on the hills the flaming beacons blaze;

With long-projected beams the seas are bright,

And heaven's high arch reflects the ruddy light:

So from Achilles' head the splendours rise,

Reflecting blaze on blaze, against the skies.

Forth marched the chief, and, distant from the crowd,

High on the rampart raised his voice aloud;

With her own shout Minerva swells the sound;

Troy starts astonished, and the shores rebound.

As the loud trumpet's brazen mouth from far

With shrilling clangour sounds the alarm of war;

Struck from the walls, the echoes float on high,

And the round bulwarks and thick towers reply:

So high his brazen voice the hero reared,

Hosts drop their arms, and trembled as they heard;

And back the chariots roll, and coursers bound,