He said; and they with mingled voices rais’d The solemn dirge; Achilles led the strain; Thrice round the dead they drove their sleek-skinn’d steeds, Mourning, with hearts by Thetis grief-inspir’d; With tears the sands, with tears the warriors’ arms, Were wet; so mighty was the chief they mourn’d. Then on his comrade’s breast Achilles laid His blood-stain’d hands, and thus began the wail: “All hail, Patroclus, though in Pluto’s realm; All that I promis’d, lo! I now perform; That on the corpse of Hector, hither dragg’d, Our dogs should feed; and that twelve noble youths, The sons of Troy, before thy fun’ral pyre, My hand, in vengeance for thy death, should slay.” He said, and foully Hector’s corpse misus’d, Flung prostrate in the dust, beside the couch Where lay Menoetius’ son. His comrades then Their glitt’ring armour doff’d, of polish’d brass, And loos’d their neighing steeds; then round the ship Of Peleus’ son in countless numbers sat, While he th’ abundant fun’ral feast dispens’d. There many a steer lay stretch’d beneath the knife, And many a sheep, and many a bleating goat, And many a white-tusk’d porker, rich in fat, There lay extended, singeing o’er the fire; And blood, in torrents, flow’d around the corpse. To Agamemnon then the Kings of Greece The royal son of Peleus, swift of foot, Conducted; yet with him they scarce prevail’d; So fierce his anger for his comrade’s death. But when to Agamemnon’s tent they came, He to the clear-voic’d heralds gave command An ample tripod on the fire to place; If haply Peleus’ son he might persuade To wash away the bloody stains of war: But sternly he, and with an oath refus’d. “No, by great Jove I swear, of all the Gods Highest and mightiest, water shall not touch This head of mine, till on the fun’ral pyre I see the body of Patroclus laid, And build his tomb, and cut my votive hair; For while I live and move ’mid mortal men, No second grief like this can pierce my soul. Observe we now the mournful fun’ral feast; But thou, great Agamemnon, King of men, Send forth at early dawn, and to the camp Bring store of fuel, and all else prepare, That with provision meet the dead may pass Down to the realms of night; so shall the fire From out our sight consume our mighty dead, And to their wonted tasks the troops return.”