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.