The Iliad of Homer


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From his ambrosial head, where perch'd she sate,  
He snatch'd the fury-goddess of debate,  
The dread, the irrevocable oath he swore,  
The immortal seats should ne'er behold her more;  
And whirl'd her headlong down, for ever driven  
From bright Olympus and the starry heaven:  
Thence on the nether world the fury fell;  
Ordain'd with man's contentious race to dwell.  
Full oft the god his son's hard toils bemoan'd,  
Cursed the dire fury, and in secret groan'd.(258)  
Even thus, like Jove himself, was I misled,  
While raging Hector heap'd our camps with dead.  
What can the errors of my rage atone?  
My martial troops, my treasures are thy own:  
This instant from the navy shall be sent  
Whate'er Ulysses promised at thy tent:  
But thou! appeased, propitious to our prayer,  
Resume thy arms, and shine again in war."  
"
O king of nations! whose superior sway  
(Returns Achilles) all our hosts obey!  
To keep or send the presents, be thy care;  
To us, 'tis equal: all we ask is war.  
While yet we talk, or but an instant shun  
The fight, our glorious work remains undone.  
Let every Greek, who sees my spear confound  
699  


Page
697 698 699 700 701

Quick Jump
1 245 490 735 980