Page:The Iliad and Odyssey of Homer (IA iliadodysseyofho02home).pdf/202

194 But never could they warp my constant mind. So much our parents and our native soil Attract us most, even although our lot Be fair and plenteous in a foreign land. But come—my painful voyage, such as Jove Gave me from Ilium, I will now relate. From Troy the winds bore me to Ismarus, City of the Ciconians; them I slew, And laid their city waste; whence bringing forth Much spoil with all their wives, I portion'd it With equal hand, and each received a share. Next, I exhorted to immediate flight My people; but in vain; they madly scorn'd My sober counsel, and much wine they drank, And sheep and beeves slew num'rous on the shore. Meantime, Ciconians to Ciconians call'd, Their neighbours summoning, a mightier host And braver, natives of the continent, Expert, on horses mounted, to maintain Fierce fight, or if occasion bade, on foot. Num'rous they came as leaves, or vernal flow'rs At day-spring. Then, by the decree of Jove, Misfortune found us. At the ships we stood Piercing each other with the brazen spear, And till the morning brighten'd into noon, Few as we were, we yet withstood them all; But, when the sun verged westward, then the Greeks Fell back, and the Ciconian host prevail'd.