And, with rich clusters laden, there was grav’n A vineyard fair, all gold; of glossy black The bunches were, on silver poles sustain’d; Around, a darksome trench; beyond, a fence Was wrought, of shining tin; and through it led One only path, by which the bearers pass’d, Who gather’d in the vineyard’s bounteous store. There maids and youths, in joyous spirits bright, In woven baskets bore the luscious fruit. A boy, amid them, from a clear-ton’d harp Drew lovely music; well his liquid voice The strings accompanied; they all with dance And song harmonious join’d, and joyous shouts, As the gay bevy lightly tripp’d along. Of straight-horn’d cattle too a herd was grav’n; Of gold and tin the heifers all were wrought: They to the pasture, from the cattle-yard, With gentle lowings, by a babbling stream, Where quiv’ring reed-beds rustled, slowly mov’d. Four golden shepherds walk’d beside the herd, By nine swift dogs attended; then amid The foremost heifers sprang two lions fierce Upon the lordly bull: he, bellowing loud, Was dragg’d along, by dogs and youths pursued. The tough bull’s-hide they tore, and gorging lapp’d Th’ intestines and dark blood; with vain attempt The herdsmen following closely, to the attack Cheer’d their swift dogs; these shunn’d the lions’ jaws, And close around them baying, held aloof. And there the skilful artist’s hand had trac’d A pastaro broad, with fleecy flocks o’erspread, In a fair glade, with fold, and tents, and pens. There, too, the skilful artist’s hand had wrought With curious workmanship, a mazy dance, Like that which Daedalus in Cnossus erst At fair-hair’d Ariadne’s bidding fram’d. There, laying each on other’s wrists their hand, Bright youths and many-suitor’d maidens danc’d: In fair white linen these; in tunics those, Well woven, shining soft with fragrant oils; These with fair coronets were crown’d, while those With golden swords from silver belts were girt. Now whirl’d they round with nimble practis’d feet, Easy, as when a potter, seated, turns A wheel, new fashion’d by his skilful hand, And spins it round, to prove if true it run; Now featly mov’d in well-beseeming ranks. A num’rous crowd, around, the lovely dance Survey’d, delighted; while an honour’d Bard Sang, as he struck the lyre, and to the strain Two tumblers, in the midst, were whirling round. About the margin of the massive shield Was wrought the mighty strength of th’ ocean stream. The shield completed, vast and strong, he forg’d A breastplate, dazzling bright as flame of fire; And next, a weighty helmet for his head, Fair, richly wrought, with crest of gold above; Then last, well-fitting greaves of pliant tin. The skill’d artificer his works complete Before Achilles’ Goddess-mother laid: She, like a falcon, from the snow-clad heights Of huge Olympus, darted swiftly down, Charg’d with the glitt’ring arms by Vulcan wrought. ARGUMENT. THE RECONCILIATION OF ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON.