SO round that sturdy ship the battle raged. But to Achilles, shepherd of the host, Patroclus came, and like a sunless spring That spills its sombre stream down a steep rock He wept hot tears. And at the sight of him Divine swift-foot Achilles had compassion, And spoke and said to him with winged words: 'Why all in tears, Patroclus, like a child, A baby girl, who trots beside her mother And begs to be picked up, and plucks her skirt, And drags upon her movements, gazing up All tears, until her mother takes her up? Thy tears, Patroclus, are as round as hers! Hast thou bad news to tell the Myrmidons, Or me myself, or can it be thou hast Private intelligence from Phthia? They say That Actor's son Menoetius still lives; Still Peleus, son of AEacus, is living Among the Myrmidons; for both of whom, So they were dead, we might be grieved indeed. Or art thou troubled for the Greeks, to see How they are perishing by the hollow ships Thanks to their own transgression? Speak, nor hide it Within thy mind, so that we both may know.' With a deep groan the knight Patroclus said: 'Achilles, son of Peleus, far the best Of all the Achaeans, do not blame me; for Such great misfortune has o'erwhelmed the Achaeans. In fact all those that were of old the best Are lying, shot or stabbed, aboard the ships. Stricken is Tydeus' son, strong Diomed, Odysseus, famous with the spear, is stabbed, And Agamemnon; and Eurypylus Has had his thigh shot through. And busy round them Are surgeons with their herbs to heal their wounds; But nothing can be done with thee, Achilles! Now God deliver me from the grip of anger Such as thou nursest, vicious-valiant man! What profit shall posterity have of thee, Unless thou save the Argives from foul harm? So then thy father was not knightly Peleus, Nor Thetis was thy mother! iron heart, Grey sea and beetling rocks begot thee, that Thy soul is so unbending. But if thou Art thinking to avoid some oracle, Some premonition which thy goddess mother Hath given thee from Zeus, then send me out And with me all the corps of Myrmidons At once, if I perchance may prove a light Unto the Danai. Give me thine own gear To buckle on my shoulders; it may be That, taking me for thee, the Trojans will Desist from war and give a breathing-time To our brave wearied sons of the Achaeans; For battle grants men little time for breath: Then we fresh men should easily repel Foes spent with fighting from the ships and huts Back to the city.' So in his folly he besought him, for The thing he prayed for was to be his own Dark death and fate. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BOSTON HYMN; READ IN MUSIC HALL, JANUARY 1, 1863 by RALPH WALDO EMERSON THE ROSE AND THORN by PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE THE WASTE PLACES by JAMES STEPHENS COME UP FROM THE FIELDS FATHER by WALT WHITMAN TO THE NIGHTINGALE by PHILIP AYRES ADDRESS TO A STEAM-VESSEL by JOANNA BAILLIE AT THE LAST by RICHARD DODDRIDGE BLACKMORE |