He said, and far before the ranks advanc’d; They rallying turn’d, and fac’d again the Greeks. Then first Æneas’ spear the comrade brave Of Lycomedes struck, Laocritus, Son of Arisbas; Lycomedes saw With pitying eyes his gallant comrade’s fall; And standing near, his glitt’ring spear he threw, And through the midriff Apisaon struck, His people’s guardian chief, the valiant son Of Hippasus, and slack’d his limbs in death. He from Paeonia’s fertile fields had come, O’er all his comrades eminent in fight, All save Asteropaeus, who with eyes Of pity saw his gallant comrade’s fall, And forward sprang to battle with the Greeks; Yet could not force his way; for all around Patroclus rose a fence of serried shields, And spears projecting: such the orders giv’n By Ajax, and with earnest care enforc’d; That from around the dead should none retire, Nor any to the front advance alone Before his fellows; but their steady guard Maintain, and hand to hand the battle wage. So order’d Ajax; then with crimson blood The earth was wet; and hand to hand they fell, Trojans alike, and brave Allies, and Greeks; For neither these a bloodless fight sustain’d, Though fewer far their losses; for they stood Of mutual succour mindful, and support. Thus, furious as the rage of fire, they fought; Nor might ye deem the glorious sun himself Nor moon was safe; for darkest clouds of night O’erspread the warriors, who the battle wag’d Around the body of Menoetius’ son: Elsewhere the Trojans and the well-greav’d Greeks Fought, undisturb’d, in the clear light of day; The sun’s bright beams were shed abroad; no cloud Lay on the face of earth or mountain tops; They but by fits, at distant intervals, And far apart, each seeking to avoid The hostile missiles, fought; but in the midst The bravest all, in darkness and in strife Sore press’d, toil’d on beneath their armour’s weight.