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. In these exulting did the Aeacid's son Stride all along the wall, with ringing shouts Cheering the dauntless Argives to the fray, Being their mightiest far, bearing a soul Insatiate of the awful onset-cry, Burning with one strong purpose, to avenge His father's death: the Myrmidons in their king Exulted. Roared the battle round the wall.