But now Odysseus, Diomede the strong, Leonteus, and Neoptolemus, as a God In strength and beauty, hailed their javelins down, And thrust them from the wall. As dogs and shepherds By shouting and hard fighting drive away Strong lions from a steading, rushing forth From all sides, and the brutes with glaring eyes Pace to and fro; with savage lust for blood Of calves and kine their jaws are slavering;
Yet must their onrush give back from the hounds And fearless onset of the shepherd folk;
[So from these new defenders shrank the foe]
A little, far as one may hurl a stone Exceeding great; for still Eurypylus Suffered them not to flee far from the ships, But cheered them on to bide the brunt, until The ships be won, and all the Argives slain;
For Zeus with measureless might thrilled all his frame.
Then seized he a rugged stone and huge, and leapt And hurled it full against the high-built wall.
It crashed, and terribly boomed that rampart steep To its foundations. Terror gripped the Greeks, As though that wall had crumbled down in dust;
Yet from the deadly conflict flinched they not, But stood fast, like to jackals or to wolves Bold robbers of the sheep -- when mid the hills Hunter and hound would drive them forth their caves, Being grimly purposed there to slay their whelps.
Yet these, albeit tormented by the darts, Flee not, but for their cubs' sake bide and fight;
So for the ships' sake they abode and fought, And for their own lives. But Eurypylus Afront of all the ships stood, taunting them:
"Coward and dastard souls! no darts of yours Had given me pause, nor thrust back from your ships, Had not your rampart stayed mine onset-rush.
Ye are like to dogs, that in a forest flinch Before a lion! Skulking therewithin Ye are fighting -- nay, are shrinking back from death!
But if ye dare come forth on Trojan ground, As once when ye were eager for the fray, None shall from ghastly death deliver you:
Slain by mine hand ye all shall lie in dust!"
So did he shout a prophecy unfulfilled, Nor heard Doom's chariot-wheels fast rolling near Bearing swift death at Neoptolemus' hands, Nor saw death gleaming from his glittering spear.
Ay, and that hero paused not now from fight, But from the ramparts smote the Trojans aye.
From that death leaping from above they quailed In tumult round Eurypylus: deadly fear Gripped all their hearts. As little children cower About a father's knees when thunder of Zeus Crashes from cloud to cloud, when all the air Shudders and groans, so did the sons of Troy, With those Ceteians round their great king, cower Ever as prince Neoptolemus hurled; for death Rode upon all he cast, and bare his wrath Straight rushing down upon the heads of foes.
Now in their hearts those wildered Trojans said That once more they beheld Achilles' self Gigantic in his armour. Yet they hid That horror in their breasts, lest panic fear Should pass from them to the Ceteian host And king Eurypylus; so on every side They wavered 'twixt the stress of their hard strait And that blood-curdling dread, 'twixt shame and fear.
As when men treading a precipitous path Look up, and see adown the mountain-slope A torrent rushing on them, thundering down The rocks, and dare not meet its clamorous flood, But hurry shuddering on, with death in sight Holding as naught the perils of the path;
So stayed the Trojans, spite of their desire [To flee the imminent death that waited them]
Beneath the wall. Godlike Eurypylus Aye cheered them on to fight. He trusted still That this new mighty foe would weary at last With toil of slaughter; but he wearied not.
That desperate battle-travail Pallas saw, And left the halls of Heaven incense-sweet, And flew o'er mountain-crests: her hurrying feet Touched not the earth, borne by the air divine In form of cloud-wreaths, swifter than the wind.
She came to Troy, she stayed her feet upon Sigeum's windy ness, she looked forth thence Over the ringing battle of dauntless men, And gave the Achaeans glory. Achilles' son Beyond the rest was filled with valour and strength Which win renown for men in whom they meet.
Peerless was he in both: the blood of Zeus Gave strength; to his father's valour was he heir;
So by those towers he smote down many a foe.
And as a fisher on the darkling sea, To lure the fish to their destruction, takes Within his boat the strength of fire; his breath Kindles it to a flame, till round the boat Glareth its splendour, and from the black sea Dart up the fish all eager to behold The radiance -- for the last time; for the barbs Of his three-pointed spear, as up they leap, Slay them; his heart rejoices o'er the prey.
So that war-king Achilles' glorious son Slew hosts of onward-rushing foes around That wall of stone. Well fought the Achaeans all, Here, there, adown the ramparts: rang again The wide strand and the ships: the battered walls Groaned ever. Men with weary ache of toil Fainted on either side; sinews and might Of strong men were unstrung. But o'er the son Of battle-stay Achilles weariness Crept not: his battle-eager spirit aye Was tireless; never touched by palsying fear He fought on, as with the triumphant strength Of an ever-flowing river: though it roll 'Twixt blazing forests, though the madding blast Roll stormy seas of flame, it feareth not, For at its brink faint grows the fervent heat, The strong flood turns its might to impotence;
So weariness nor fear could bow the knees Of Hero Achilles' gallant-hearted son, Still as he fought, still cheered his comrades on.
Of myriad shafts sped at him none might touch His flesh, but even as snowflakes on a rock Fell vainly ever: wholly screened was he By broad shield and strong helmet, gifts of a God.
