He spake; and from the chariot sprang to earth That glorious man: he swung the long spear up. But in his brawny hand his foe hath seized A monstrous stone: full at the golden shield Of Neoptolemus he sped its flight; But, no whir staggered by its whirlwind rush, He like a giant mountain-foreland stood Which all the banded fury of river-floods Can stir not, rooted in the eternal hills; So stood unshaken still Achilles' son. Yet not for this Eurypylus' dauntless might Shrank from Achilles' son invincible, On-spurred by his own hardihood and by Fate. Their hearts like caldrons seethed o'er fires of wrath, Their glancing armour flashed about their limbs. Like terrible lions each on other rushed, Which fight amid the mountains famine-stung, Writhing and leaping in the strain of strife For a slain ox or stag, while all the glens Ring with their conflict; so they grappled, so Clashed they in pitiless strife. On either hand Long lines of warriors Greek and Trojan toiled In combat: round them roared up flames of war. Like mighty rushing winds they hurled together With eager spears for blood of life athirst. Hard by them stood Enyo, spurred them on Ceaselessly: never paused they from the strife. Now hewed they each the other's shield, and now Thrust at the greaves, now at the crested helms. Reckless of wounds, in that grim toil pressed on Those aweless heroes: Strife incarnate watched And gloated o'er them. Ran the sweat in streams From either: straining hard they stood their ground, For both were of the seed of Blessed Ones. From Heaven, with hearts at variance, Gods looked down; For some gave glory to Achilles' son, Some to Eurypylus the godlike. Still They fought on, giving ground no more than rock. Of granite mountains. Rang from side to side Spear-smitten shields. At last the Pelian lance, Sped onward by a mighty thrust, hath passed Clear through Eurypylus' throat. Forth poured the blood Torrent-like; through the portal of the wound The soul from the body flew: darkness of death Dropped o'er his eyes. To earth in clanging arms He fell, like stately pine or silver fir Uprooted by the fury of Boreas; Such space of earth Eurypylus' giant frame Covered in falling: rang again the floor And plain of Troyland. Grey death-pallor swept Over the corpse, and all the flush of life Faded away. With a triumphant laugh Shouted the mighty hero over him: "Eurypylus, thou saidst thou wouldst destroy The Danaan ships and men, wouldst slay us all Wretchedly--but the Gods would not fulfil Thy wish. For all thy might invincible, My father's massy spear hath now subdued Thee under me, that spear no man shall 'scape, Though he be brass all through, who faceth me."