But Peleus' son the while forgat not yet War's fury: still in his invincible limbs The hot blood throbbed, and still he longed for fight. Was none of all the Trojans dared draw nigh The stricken hero, but at distance stood, As round a wounded lion hunters stand Mid forest-brakes afraid, and, though the shaft Stands in his heart, yet faileth not in him His royal courage, but with terrible glare Roll his fierce eyes, and roar his grimly jaws; So wrath and anguish of his deadly hurt To fury stung Peleides' soul; but aye His strength ebbed through the god-envenomed wound. Yet leapt he up, and rushed upon the foe, And flashed the lightning of his lance; it slew The goodly Orythaon, comrade stout Of Hector, through his temples crashing clear: His helm stayed not the long lance fury-sped Which leapt therethrough, and won within the bones The heart of the brain, and spilt his lusty life. Then stabbed he 'neath the brow Hipponous Even to the eye-roots, that the eyeball fell To earth: his soul to Hades flitted forth. Then through the jaw he pierced Alcathous, And shore away his tongue: in dust he fell Gasping his life out, and the spear-head shot Out through his ear. These, as they rushed on him, That hero slew; but many a fleer's life He spilt, for in his heart still leapt the blood. But when his limbs grew chill, and ebbed away His spirit, leaning on his spear he stood, While still the Trojans fled in huddled rout Of panic, and he shouted unto them: "Trojan and Dardan cravens, ye shall not Even in my death, escape my merciless spear, But unto mine Avenging Spirits ye Shall pay--ay, one and all--destruction's debt!" He spake; they heard and quailed: as mid the hills Fawns tremble at a lion's deep-mouthed roar, And terror-stricken flee the monster, so The ranks of Trojan chariot-lords, the lines Of battle-helpers drawn from alien lands, Quailed at the last shout of Achilles, deemed That he was woundless yet. But 'neath the weight Of doom his aweless heart, his mighty limbs, At last were overborne. Down midst the dead He fell, as fails a beetling mountain-cliff. Earth rang beneath him: clanged with a thundercrash His arms, as Peleus' son the princely fell. And still his foes with most exceeding dread Stared at him, even as, when some murderous beast Lies slain by shepherds, tremble still the sheep Eyeing him, as beside the fold he lies, And shrinking, as they pass him, far aloof And, even as he were living, fear him dead; So feared they him, Achilles now no more.