“Trojans and Lycians, and ye Dardans fam’d In close encounter, quit ye now like men; Put forth your wonted valour; from the field Their bravest has withdrawn, and Jove on me Great glory hath shed; now headlong on the Greeks Urge your swift steeds, and endless honour gain.” His words fresh courage rous’d in ev’ry breast: And as a hunter cheers his sharp-fang’d hounds On forest boar or lion; on the Greeks So cheer’d the valiant Trojans Priam’s son, Illustrious Hector, stern as blood-stain’d Mars. Bent on high deeds, himself in front advanc’d, Fell on the masses as a whirlwind falls, Lashing with furious sweep the dark-blue sea. Say then, who first, who last, by Hector’s hand, Whom Jove had will’d to crown with honour, died. Assaeus first, and then Autonous, Opites, and Opheltius, Dolops, son Of Clytus, and Æsumnus, Agelas And Orus, and brave Hipponous; All these the chiefs of Greece; the nameless crowd He scatter’d next; as when the west wind drives The clouds, and battles with the hurricane, Before the clearing blast of Notus driv’n; The big waves heave and roll, and high aloft, The gale, careering, flings the ocean spray; So thick and furious fell on hostile heads The might of Hector. Now had fearful deeds Been done, and Greeks beside their ships had fall’n In shameful rout, had not Ulysses thus To Diomed, the son of Tydeus, call’d: “Why, son of Tydeus, should we thus relax Our warlike courage? come, stand by me now, True friend! if Hector of the glancing helm Our ships should capture, great were our disgrace.” Whom answer’d thus the valiant Diomed: “Beside thee will I stand, and still endure; But brief will be the term of our success, Since Jove, the Cloud-compeller, not to us, But to the Trojans, wills the victory.”