Gallantly spake he: with exceeding joy Rejoiced the Trojans. Champions then he chose, Alexander and Aeneas fiery-souled, Polydamas, Pammon, and Deiphobus, And Aethicus, of Paphlagonian men The staunchest man to stem the tide of war; These chose he, cunning all in battle-toil, To meet the foe in forefront of the fight. Swiftly they strode before that warrior-throng Then from the city cheering charged. The host Followed them in their thousands, as when bees Follow by bands their leaders from the hives, With loud hum on a spring day pouring forth. So to the fight the warriors followed these; And, as they charged, the thunder-tramp of men And steeds, and clang of armour, rang to heaven. As when a rushing mighty wind stirs up The barren sea-plain from its nethermost floor, And darkling to the strand roll roaring waves Belching sea-tangle from the bursting surf, And wild sounds rise from beaches harvestless; So, as they charged, the wide earth rang again. Now from their rampart forth the Argives poured Round godlike Agamemnon. Rang their shouts Cheering each other on to face the fight, And not to cower beside the ships in dread Of onset-shouts of battle-eager foes. They met those charging hosts with hearts as light As calves bear, when they leap to meet the kine Down faring from hill-pastures in the spring Unto the steading, when the fields are green With corn-blades, when the earth is glad with flowers, And bowls are brimmed with milk of kine and ewes, And multitudinous lowing far and near Uprises as the mothers meet their young, And in their midst the herdman joys; so great Was the uproar that rose when met the fronts Of battle: dread it rang on either hand. Hard-strained was then the fight: incarnate Strife Stalked through the midst, with Slaughter ghastly-faced. Crashed bull-hide shields, and spears, and helmet-crests Meeting: the brass flashed out like leaping flames. Bristled the battle with the lances; earth Ran red with blood, as slaughtered heroes fell And horses, mid a tangle of shattered ears, Some yet with spear-wounds gasping, while on them Others were falling. Through the air upshrieked An awful indistinguishable roar; For on both hosts fell iron-hearted Strife. Here were men hurling cruel jagged stones, There speeding arrows and new-whetted darts, There with the axe or twibill hewing hard, Slashing with swords, and thrusting out with spears: Their mad hands clutched all manner of tools of death.