The Iliad of Homer: Translated into English Blank Verse by William CowperHomer
General
The Iliad of Homer: Translated into English Blank Verse by William Cowper
Homer
Achilles (Mythological character) -- Poetry; Epic poetry, Greek -- Translations into English; Trojan War -- Poetry
That all who notice us may understand
Our patrimonial[17] amity and love.285
So they, and each alighting, hand in hand
Stood lock’d, faith promising and firm accord.
Then Jove of sober judgment so bereft
Infatuate Glaucus that with Tydeus’ son
He barter’d gold for brass, an hundred beeves290
In value, for the value small of nine.
But Hector at the Scæan gate and beech[18]
Meantime arrived, to whose approach the wives
And daughters flock’d of Troy, inquiring each
The fate of husband, brother, son, or friend.295
He bade them all with solemn prayer the Gods
Seek fervent, for that wo was on the wing.
But when he enter’d Priam’s palace, built
With splendid porticoes, and which within
Had fifty chambers lined with polish’d stone,300
Contiguous all, where Priam’s sons reposed
And his sons’ wives, and where, on the other side.
In twelve magnificent chambers also lined
With polish’d marble and contiguous all,
The sons-in-law of Priam lay beside305
His spotless daughters, there the mother queen
Seeking the chamber of Laodice,
Loveliest of all her children, as she went
Met Hector. On his hand she hung and said:
Why leavest thou, O my son! the dangerous field?310
I fear that the Achaians (hateful name!)
Compass the walls so closely, that thou seek’st
Urged by distress the citadel, to lift
Thine hands in prayer to Jove? But pause awhile
Till I shall bring thee wine, that having pour’d315
Libation rich to Jove and to the powers
Immortal, thou may’st drink and be refresh’d.
For wine is mighty to renew the strength
Of weary man, and weary thou must be
Thyself, thus long defending us and ours.320
To whom her son majestic thus replied.
My mother, whom I reverence! cheering wine
Bring none to me, lest I forget my might.[19]
I fear, beside, with unwash’d hands to pour
Libation forth of sable wine to Jove,325
And dare on none account, thus blood-defiled,[20]
Approach the tempest-stirring God in prayer.
Thou, therefore, gathering all our matrons, seek
The fane of Pallas, huntress of the spoil,
Bearing sweet incense; but from the attire330
Treasured within thy chamber, first select
The amplest robe, most exquisitely wrought,
And which thou prizest most—then spread the gift
On Athenæan Pallas’ lap divine.
Twelve heifers also of the year, untouch’d335
With puncture of the goad, promise to slay
In sacrifice, if she will pity Troy,
Our wives and little ones, and will avert
The son of Tydeus from these sacred towers,
That dreadful Chief, terror of all our host.340
Go then, my mother, seek the hallowed fane
Of the spoil-huntress Deity. I, the while,
Seek Paris, and if Paris yet can hear,
Shall call him forth. But oh that earth would yawn
And swallow him, whom Jove hath made a curse345
To Troy, to Priam, and to all his house;
Methinks, to see him plunged into the shades
For ever, were a cure for all my woes.
He ceased; the Queen, her palace entering, charged
Her maidens; they, incontinent, throughout350
All Troy convened the matrons, as she bade.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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