As rav’ning wolves, that lambs or kids assail, Stray’d from their dams, by careless shepherds left Upon the mountain scatter’d; these they see, And tear at once their unresisting prey; So on the Trojans fell the Greeks; in rout Disastrous they, unmann’d by terror, fled. Great Ajax still, unwearied, long’d to hurl His spear at Hector of the brazen helm; But he, well skill’d in war, his shoulders broad Protected by his shield of tough bull’s hide, Watch’d for the whizzing shafts, and jav’lins’ whirr. Full well he knew the tide of battle turn’d, Yet held his ground, his trusty friends to save. As from Olympus, o’er the clear blue sky Pour the dark clouds, when Jove the vault of Heav’n O’erspreads with storm and tempest, from the ships So pour’d with panic cries the flying host, And in disorder’d rout recross’d the trench. Then Hector’s flying coursers bore him safe Far from the struggling masses, whom the ditch Detain’d perforce; there many a royal car With broken pole th’ unharness’d horses left. On, shouting to the Greeks, Patroclus press’d The flying Trojans; they, with panic cries, Dispers’d, the roads encumber’d; high uprose The storms of dust, as from the tents and ships Back to the city stretch’d the flying steeds; And ever where the densest throng appear’d With furious threats Patroclus urg’d his course; His glowing axle trac’d by prostrate men Hurl’d from their cars, and chariots overthrown. Flew o’er the deep-sunk trench th’ immortal steeds, The noble prize the Gods to Peleus gave, Still onward straining; for he long’d to reach, And hurl his spear at Hector; him meanwhile His flying steeds in safety bore away.