Along the ocean beach Achilles pass’d, And loudly shouting, call’d on all the chiefs; Then all who heretofore remain’d on board, The steersmen, who the vessels’ rudders hold, The very stewards that serv’d the daily bread, All to th’ assembly throng’d, when reappear’d Achilles, from the fight so long withdrawn. Two noble chiefs, two ministers of Mars, Ulysses sage, and valiant Diomed, Appear’d, yet crippled by their grievous wounds, Their halting steps supporting with their spears, And on the foremost seats their places took. Next follow’d Agamemnon, King of men, He also wounded; for Antenor’s son, Coon, had stabb’d him in the stubborn fight. When all the Greeks were closely throng’d around, Up rose Achilles swift of foot, and said: “Great son of Atreus, what hath been the gain To thee or me, since heart-consuming strife Hath fiercely rag’d between us, for a girl, Who would to Heav’n had died by Dian’s shafts That day when from Lyrnessus’ captur’d town I bore her off? so had not many a Greek Bitten the bloody dust, by hostile hands Subdued, while I in anger stood aloof. Great was the gain to Troy; but Greeks, methinks, Will long retain the mem’ry of our feud. Yet pass we that; and though our hearts be sore, Still let us school our angry spirits down. My wrath I here abjure; it is not meet It burn for ever unappeas’d; do thou Muster to battle straight the long-hair’d Greeks; That, to the Trojans once again oppos’d, I may make trial if beside the ships They dare this night remain; but he, I ween, Will gladly rest his limbs, who safe shall fly, My spear escaping, from the battle-field.”