So drew he back a little space, and left Lying in dust his son, since now no more Lived in the once lithe limbs the olden strength, For the years' weight lay heavy on his head. Back leapt Thrasymedes likewise, spearman good, And battle-eager Phereus, and the rest Their comrades; for that slaughter-dealing man Pressed hard on them. As when from mountains high A shouting river with wide-echoing din Sweeps down its fathomless whirlpools through the gloom, When God with tumult of a mighty storm Hath palled the sky in cloud from verge to verge, When thunders crash all round, when thick and fast Gleam lightnings from the huddling clouds, when fields Are flooded as the hissing rain descends, And all the air is filled with awful roar Of torrents pouring down the hill-ravines; So Memnon toward the shores of Hellespont Before him hurled the Argives, following hard Behind them, slaughtering ever. Many a man Fell in the dust, and left his life in blood 'Neath Aethiop hands. Stained was the earth with gore As Danaans died. Exulted Memnon's soul As on the ranks of foemen ever he rushed, And heaped with dead was all the plain of Troy. And still from fight refrained he not; he hoped To be a light of safety unto Troy And bane to Danaans. But all the while Stood baleful Doom beside him, and spurred on To strife, with flattering smile. To right, to left His stalwart helpers wrought in battle-toil, Alcyoneus and Nychius, and the son Of Asius furious-souled; Meneclus' spear, Clydon and Alexippus, yea, a host Eager to chase the foe, men who in fight Quit them like men, exulting in their king. Then, as Meneclus on the Danaans charged, The son of Neleus slew him. Wroth for his friend, Whole throngs of foes fierce-hearted Memnon slew. As when a hunter midst the mountains drives Swift deer within the dark lines of his toils-- The eager ring of beaters closing in Presses the huddled throng into the snares Of death: the dogs are wild with joy of the chase Ceaselessly giving tongue, the while his darts Leap winged with death on brocket and on hind; So Memnon slew and ever slew: his men Rejoiced, the while in panic stricken rout Before that glorious man the Argives fled. As when from a steep mountain's precipice-brow Leaps a huge crag, which all-resistless Zeus By stroke of thunderbolt hath hurled from the crest; Crash oakwood copses, echo long ravines, Shudders the forest to its rattle and roar, And flocks therein and herds and wild things flee Scattering, as bounding, whirling, it descends With deadly pitiless onrush; so his foes Fled from the lightning-flash of Memnon's spear.