Delphi Poetry Anthology: The World's Greatest Poems (Delphi Poets Series Book 50) Read Online Free PDF Page A

splendid couch whence he had risen
Again reclined, opposite to the seat
Of Priam, whom the hero thus bespake.
     
    Priam! at thy request thy son is loosed,
And lying on his bier; at dawn of day
Thou shalt both see him and convey him hence
Thyself to Troy. But take we now repast;
For even bright-hair’d Niobe her food
Forgat not, though of children twelve bereft,
Of daughters six, and of six blooming sons.
Apollo these struck from his silver bow,
And those shaft-arm’d Diana, both incensed
That oft Latona’s children and her own
Numbering, she scorn’d the Goddess who had borne
Two only, while herself had twelve to boast.
Vain boast! those two sufficed to slay them all.
Nine days they welter’d in their blood, no man
Was found to bury them, for Jove had changed
To stone the people; but themselves, at last,
The Powers of heaven entomb’d them on the tenth.
Yet even she, once satisfied with tears,
Remember’d food; and now the rocks among
And pathless solitudes of Sipylus,
The rumor’d cradle of the nymphs who dance
On Acheloüs’ banks, although to stone
Transform’d, she broods her heaven-inflicted woes.
Come, then, my venerable guest! take we
Refreshment also; once arrived in Troy
With thy dear son, thou shalt have time to weep
Sufficient, nor without most weighty cause.
     
    So spake Achilles, and, upstarting, slew
A sheep white-fleeced, which his attendants flay’d,
  And busily and with much skill their task
Administ’ring, first scored the viands well,
Then pierced them with the spits, and when the roast
Was finish’d, drew them from the spits again.
And now, Automedon dispensed around
The polish’d board bread in neat baskets piled,
Which done, Achilles portion’d out to each
His share, and all assail’d the ready feast.
But when nor hunger more nor thirst they felt,
Dardanian Priam, wond’ring at his bulk
And beauty (for he seem’d some God from heaven)
Gazed on Achilles, while Achilles held
Not less in admiration of his looks
Benign, and of his gentle converse wise,
Gazed on Dardanian Priam, and, at length
(The eyes of each gratified to the full)
The ancient King thus to Achilles spake.
     
    Hero! dismiss us now each to our bed,
That there at ease reclined, we may enjoy
Sweet sleep; for never have these eyelids closed
Since Hector fell and died, but without cease
I mourn, and nourishing unnumber’d woes,
Have roll’d me in the ashes of my courts.
But I have now both tasted food, and given
Wine to my lips, untasted till with thee.
     
    So he, and at his word Achilles bade
His train beneath his portico prepare
With all dispatch two couches, purple rugs,
And arras, and warm mantles over all.
Forth went the women bearing lights, and spread
A couch for each, when feigning needful fear,
Achilles thus his speech to Priam turn’d.
     
    My aged guest beloved; sleep thou without;
  Lest some Achaian chief (for such are wont
Ofttimes, here sitting, to consult with me)
Hither repair; of whom should any chance
To spy thee through the gloom, he would at once
Convey the tale to Agamemnon’s ear,
Whence hindrance might arise, and the release
Haply of Hector’s body be delay’d.
But answer me with truth. How many days
Wouldst thou assign to the funereal rites
Of noble Hector, for so long I mean
Myself to rest, and keep the host at home?
     
    Then thus the ancient King godlike replied.
If thou indeed be willing that we give
Burial to noble Hector, by an act
So generous, O Achilles! me thou shalt
Much gratify; for we are shut, thou know’st,
In Ilium close, and fuel must procure
From Ida’s side remote; fear, too, hath seized
On all our people. Therefore thus I say.
Nine days we wish to mourn him in the house;
To his interment we would give the tenth,
And to the public banquet; the eleventh
Shall see us build his tomb; and on the twelfth
(If war we must) we will to war again.
     
    To whom Achilles, matchless in the race.
So be it, ancient Priam! I will curb
Twelve days the rage of war, at thy desire.
     
    He