So spake Laertes' son, the far-renowned. But when they all were weary of grief and groan, Then to those sorrowing ones spake Neleus' son: "O friends, the pitiless-hearted Fates have laid Stroke after stroke of sorrow upon us, Sorrow for Aias dead, for mighty Achilles, For many an Argive, and for mine own son Antilochus. Yet all unmeet it is Day after day with passion of grief to wail Men slain in battle: nay, we must forget Laments, and turn us to the better task Of rendering dues beseeming to the dead, The dues of pyre, of tomb, of bones inurned. No lamentations will awake the dead; No note thereof he taketh, when the Fates, The ruthless ones, have swallowed him in night." So spake he words of cheer: the godlike kings Gathered with heavy hearts around the dead, And many hands upheaved the giant corpse, And swiftly bare him to the ships, and there Washed they away the blood that clotted lay Dust-flecked on mighty limbs and armour: then In linen swathed him round. From Ida's heights Wood without measure did the young men bring, And piled it round the corpse. Billets and logs Yet more in a wide circle heaped they round; And sheep they laid thereon, fair-woven vests, And goodly kine, and speed-triumphant steeds, And gleaming gold, and armour without stint, From slain foes by that glorious hero stripped. And lucent amber-drops they laid thereon, Years, say they, which the Daughters of the Sun, The Lord of Omens, shed for Phaethon slain, When by Eridanus' flood they mourned for him. These, for undying honour to his son, The God made amber, precious in men's eyes. Even this the Argives on that broad-based pyre Cast freely, honouring the mighty dead. And round him, groaning heavily, they laid Silver most fair and precious ivory, And jars of oil, and whatsoe'er beside They have who heap up goodly and glorious wealth. Then thrust they in the strength of ravening flame, And from the sea there breathed a wind, sent forth By Thetis, to consume the giant frame Of Aias. All the night and all the morn Burned 'neath the urgent stress of that great wind Beside the ships that giant form, as when Enceladus by Zeus' levin was consumed Beneath Thrinacia, when from all the isle Smoke of his burning rose--or like as when Hercules, trapped by Nessus' deadly guile, Gave to devouring fire his living limbs, What time he dared that awful deed, when groaned All Oeta as he burned alive, and passed His soul into the air, leaving the man Far-famous, to be numbered with the Gods, When earth closed o'er his toil-tried mortal part. So huge amid the flames, all-armour clad, Lay Aias, all the joy of fight forgot, While a great multitude watching thronged the sands. Glad were the Trojans, but the Achaeans grieved.