So in her wild lament the Sea-queen cried. But now to Thetis spake Calliope, She in whose heart was steadfast wisdom throned: "From lamentation, Thetis, now forbear, And do not, in the frenzy of thy grief For thy lost son, provoke to wrath the Lord Of Gods and men. Lo, even sons of Zeus, The Thunder-king, have perished, overborne By evil fate. Immortal though I be, Mine own son Orpheus died, whose magic song Drew all the forest-trees to follow him, And every craggy rock and river-stream, And blasts of winds shrill-piping stormy-breathed, And birds that dart through air on rushing wings. Yet I endured mine heavy sorrow: Gods Ought not with anguished grief to vex their souls. Therefore make end of sorrow-stricken wail For thy brave child; for to the sons of earth Minstrels shall chant his glory and his might, By mine and by my sisters' inspiration, Unto the end of time. Let not thy soul Be crushed by dark grief, nor do thou lament Like those frail mortal women. Know'st thou not That round all men which dwell upon the earth Hovereth irresistible deadly Fate, Who recks not even of the Gods? Such power She only hath for heritage. Yea, she Soon shall destroy gold-wealthy Priam's town, And Trojans many and Argives doom to death, Whomso she will. No God can stay her hand." So in her wisdom spake Calliope. Then plunged the sun down into Ocean's stream, And sable-vestured Night came floating up O'er the wide firmament, and brought her boon Of sleep to sorrowing mortals. On the sands There slept they, all the Achaean host, with heads Bowed 'neath the burden of calamity. But upon Thetis sleep laid not his hand: Still with the deathless Nereids by the sea She sate; on either side the Muses spake One after other comfortable words To make that sorrowing heart forget its pain.