The morn arose, and from the ocean, in her saffron robe, Gave light to all, as well to Gods, as men of th’ under globe. Thetis stoop’d home, and found the prostrate person of her son About his friend, still pouring out himself in passión; A number more being heavy consorts to him in his cares. Amongst them all Thetis appear’d and, sacred comforters, Made these short words: “Though we must grieve, yet bear it thus, my son, It was no man that prostrated, in this sad fashión, Thy dearest friend; it was a God that first laid on his hand, Whose will is law. The Gods’ decrees, no human must withstand. Do thou embrace this fabric of a God, whose hand before Ne’er forg’d the like; and such as yet, no human shoulder wore.” Thus, setting down, the precious metal of the arms was such That all the room rung with the weight of every slend’rest touch. Cold tremblings took the Myrmidons; none durst sustain, all fear’d T’ oppose their eyes; Achilles yet, as soon as they appear’d, Stern Anger enter’d. From his eyes, as if the day-star rose, A radiance terrifying men did all the state enclose. At length he took into his hands the rich gift of the God, And, much pleas’d to behold the art that in the shield he show’d, He brake forth into this applause: “O mother, these right well Show an immortal finger’s touch; man’s hand must never deal With arms again. Now I will arm; yet, that no honour make My friend forgotten, I much fear, lest with the blows of flies His brass-inflicted wounds are fil’d; life gone, his person lies All apt to putrefactión.” She bade him doubt no harm Of those offences, she would care, to keep the petulant swarm Of flies, that usually taint the bodies of the slain, From his friend’s person. Though a year, the earth’s top should sustain His slaughter’d body, it should still rest sound, and rather hold A better state than worse, since time that death first made him cold. And so bade call a council, to dispose of new alarms, Where, to the king, that was the pastor of that flock in arms, He should depose all anger, and put on a fortitude Fit for his arms. All this his pow’rs with dreadful strength indued. She, with her fair hand, still’d into the nostrils of his friend Red nectar and ambrosia; with which she did defend The corse from putrefactión. He trod along the shore, And summon’d all th’ heroic Greeks, with all that spent before The time in exercise with him, the masters, pilots too, Vict’lers, and all. All, when they saw Achilles summon so, Swarm’d to the council, having long left the laborious wars. To all these came two halting kings, true servitors of Mars, Tydides and wise Ithacus, both leaning on their spears, Their wounds still painful; and both these sat first of all the peers. The last come was the king of men, sore wounded with the lance Of Coon Antenorides. All set, the first in utterance Was Thetis’ son, who rose and said: “Atrides, had not this Conferr’d most profit to us both, when both our enmities