All through the tangle of that desperate fray Stalked slaughter and doom. The incarnate Onset-shout Raved through the rolling battle; at her side Paced Death the ruthless, and the Fearful Faces, The Fates, beside them strode, and in red hands Bare murder and the groans of dying men. That day the beating of full many a heart, Trojan and Argive, was for ever stilled, While roared the battle round them, while the fury Of Penthesileia fainted not nor failed; But as amid long ridges of lone hills A lioness, stealing down a deep ravine, Springs on the kine with lightning leap, athirst For blood wherein her fierce heart revelleth; So on the Danaans leapt that warrior-maid. And they, their souls were cowed: backward they shrank, And fast she followed, as a towering surge Chases across the thunder-booming sea A flying bark, whose white sails strain beneath The wind's wild buffering, and all the air Maddens with roaring, as the rollers crash On a black foreland looming on the lee Where long reefs fringe the surf-tormented shores. So chased she, and so dashed the ranks asunder Triumphant-souled, and hurled fierce threats before: "Ye dogs, this day for evil outrage done To Priam shall ye pay! No man of you Shall from mine hands deliver his own life, And win back home, to gladden parents eyes, Or comfort wife or children. Ye shall lie Dead, ravined on by vultures and by wolves, And none shall heap the earth-mound o'er your clay. Where skulketh now the strength of Tydeus' son, And where the might of Aeacus' scion? Where is Aias' bulk? Ye vaunt them mightiest men Of all your rabble. Ha! they will not dare With me to close in battle, lest I drag Forth from their fainting frames their craven souls!" Then heart-uplifted leapt she on the foe, Resistless as a tigress, crashing through Ranks upon ranks of Argives, smiting now With that huge halberd massy-headed, now Hurling the keen dart, while her battle-horse Flashed through the fight, and on his shoulder bare Quiver and bow death-speeding, close to her hand, If mid that revel of blood she willed to speed The bitter-biting shaft. Behind her swept The charging lines of men fleet-footed, friends And brethren of the man who never flinched From close death-grapple, Hector, panting all The hot breath of the War-god from their breasts, All slaying Danaans with the ashen spear, Who fell as frost-touched leaves in autumn fall One after other, or as drops of rain. And aye went up a moaning from earth's breast All blood-bedrenched, and heaped with corse on corse. Horses pierced through with arrows, or impaled On spears, were snorting forth their last of strength With screaming neighings. Men, with gnashing teeth Biting the dust, lay gasping, while the steeds Of Trojan charioteers stormed in pursuit, Trampling the dying mingled with the dead As oxen trample corn in threshing-floors.