“Ye sons of Ajax, now is come the time Your former fame to rival, or surpass: The man hath fall’n, who first o’erleap’d our wall, Sarpedon; now remains, that, having slain, We should his corpse dishonour, and his arms Strip off; and should some comrade dare attempt His rescue, him too with our spears subdue.” He said; and they, with martial ardour fir’d, Rush’d to the conflict. When on either side The reinforc’d battalions were array’d, Trojans and Lycians, Myrmidons and Greeks Around the dead in sternest combat met, With fearful shouts; and loud their armour rang. Then, to enhance the horror of the strife Around his son, with darkness Jove o’erspread The stubborn fight: the Trojans first drove back The keen-ey’d Greeks; for first a warrior fell, Not of the meanest ’mid the Myrmidons, Epegeus, son of valiant Agacles; Who in Budaeum’s thriving state bore rule Erewhile; but flying for a kinsman slain, To Peleus and the silver-footed Queen He came a suppliant; with Achilles thence To Ilium sent, to join the war of Troy. Him, as he stretch’d his hand to seize the dead, Full on the forehead with a massive stone Great Hector smote; within the pond’rous helm The skull was split in twain; prone on the corpse He fell, by life-destroying death subdued. Griev’d was Patroclus for his comrade slain; Forward he darted, as a swift-wing’d hawk, That swoops amid the starlings and the daws; So swift didst thou, Patroclus, car-borne chief, Upon the Trojans and the Lycians spring, Thy soul with anger for thy comrade fill’d. A pond’rous stone he hurl’d at Sthenelas, Son of Ithaemenes; the mighty mass Fell on his neck, and all the muscles crush’d. Back drew great Hector and the chiefs of Troy; Far as a jav’lin’s flight, in sportive strife, Or in the deadly battle, hurl’d by one His utmost strength exerting; back so far The Trojans drew, so far the Greeks pursued. Glaucus, the leader of the Lycian spears, First turning, slew the mighty Bathycles, The son of Chalcon; he in Hellas dwelt, In wealth surpassing all the Myrmidons. Him, as he gain’d upon him in pursuit, Quick turning, Glaucus through the breast transfix’d; Thund’ring he fell; deep grief possess’d the Greeks At loss of one so valiant; fiercely joy’d The Trojans, and around him crowded thick; Nor of their wonted valour were the Greeks Oblivious, but still onward held their course. Then slew Meriones a crested chief, The bold Laogonus, Onetor’s son; Onetor, of Idaean Jove the priest, And by the people as a God rever’d. Below the ear he struck him; from his limbs The spirit fled, and darkness veil’d his eyes.