Now came the sound of that upringing wail To Nereus' Daughters, dwellers in the depths Unfathomed. With sore anguish all their hearts Were smitten: piteously they moaned: their cry Shivered along the waves of Hellespont.
Then with dark mantles overpalled they sped Swiftly to where the Argive men were thronged.
As rushed their troop up silver paths of sea, The flood disported round them as they came.
With one wild cry they floated up; it rang, A sound as when fleet-flying cranes forebode A great storm. Moaned the monsters of the deep Plaintively round that train of mourners. Fast On sped they to their goal, with awesome cry Wailing the while their sister's mighty son.
Swiftly from Helicon the Muses came Heart-burdened with undying grief, for love And honour to the Nereid starry-eyed.
Then Zeus with courage filled the Argive men, That-eyes of flesh might undismayed behold That glorious gathering of Goddesses.
Then those Divine Ones round Achilles' corse Pealed forth with one voice from immortal lips A lamentation. Rang again the shores Of Hellespont. As rain upon the earth Their tears fell round the dead man, Aeacus' son;
For out of depths of sorrow rose their moan.
And all the armour, yea, the tents, the ships Of that great sorrowing multitude were wet With tears from ever-welling springs of grief.
His mother cast her on him, clasping him, And kissed her son's lips, crying through her tears:
"Now let the rosy-vestured Dawn in heaven Exult! Now let broad-flowing Axius Exult, and for Asteropaeus dead Put by his wrath! Let Priam's seed be glad But I unto Olympus will ascend, And at the feet of everlasting Zeus Will cast me, bitterly planning that he gave Me, an unwilling bride, unto a man -- A man whom joyless eld soon overtook, To whom the Fates are near, with death for gift.
Yet not so much for his lot do I grieve As for Achilles; for Zeus promised me To make him glorious in the Aeacid halls, In recompense for the bridal I so loathed That into wild wind now I changed me, now To water, now in fashion as a bird I was, now as the blast of flame; nor might A mortal win me for his bride, who seemed All shapes in turn that earth and heaven contain, Until the Olympian pledged him to bestow A godlike son on me, a lord of war.
Yea, in a manner this did he fulfil Faithfully; for my son was mightiest Of men. But Zeus made brief his span of life Unto my sorrow. Therefore up to heaven Will I: to Zeus's mansion will I go And wail my son, and will put Zeus in mind Of all my travail for him and his sons In their sore stress, and sting his soul with shame."
So in her wild lament the Sea-queen cried.
But now to Thetis spake Calliope, She in whose heart was steadfast wisdom throned:
"From lamentation, Thetis, now forbear, And do not, in the frenzy of thy grief For thy lost son, provoke to wrath the Lord Of Gods and men. Lo, even sons of Zeus, The Thunder-king, have perished, overborne By evil fate. Immortal though I be, Mine own son Orpheus died, whose magic song Drew all the forest-trees to follow him, And every craggy rock and river-stream, And blasts of winds shrill-piping stormy-breathed, And birds that dart through air on rushing wings.
Yet I endured mine heavy sorrow: Gods Ought not with anguished grief to vex their souls.
Therefore make end of sorrow-stricken wail For thy brave child; for to the sons of earth Minstrels shall chant his glory and his might, By mine and by my sisters' inspiration, Unto the end of time. Let not thy soul Be crushed by dark grief, nor do thou lament Like those frail mortal women. Know'st thou not That round all men which dwell upon the earth Hovereth irresistible deadly Fate, Who recks not even of the Gods? Such power She only hath for heritage. Yea, she Soon shall destroy gold-wealthy Priam's town, And Trojans many and Argives doom to death, Whomso she will. No God can stay her hand."
So in her wisdom spake Calliope.
Then plunged the sun down into Ocean's stream, And sable-vestured Night came floating up O'er the wide firmament, and brought her boon Of sleep to sorrowing mortals. On the sands There slept they, all the Achaean host, with heads Bowed 'neath the burden of calamity.
But upon Thetis sleep laid not his hand:
Still with the deathless Nereids by the sea She sate; on either side the Muses spake One after other comfortable words To make that sorrowing heart forget its pain.
But when with a triumphant laugh the Dawn Soared up the sky, and her most radiant light Shed over all the Trojans and their king, Then, sorrowing sorely for Achilles still, The Danaans woke to weep. Day after day, For many days they wept. Around them moaned Far-stretching beaches of the sea, and mourned Great Nereus for his daughter Thetis' sake;
And mourned with him the other Sea-gods all For dead Achilles. Then the Argives gave The corpse of great Peleides to the flame.
A pyre of countless tree-trunks built they up Which, all with one mind toiling, from the heights Of Ida they brought down; for Atreus' sons Sped on the work, and charged them to bring thence Wood without measure, that consumed with speed Might be Achilles' body. All around Piled they about the pyre much battle-gear Of strong men slain; and slew and cast thereon Full many goodly sons of Trojan men, And snorting steeds, and mighty bulls withal, And sheep and fatling swine thereon they cast.
