And wailing captive maids from coffers brought Mantles untold; all cast they on the pyre:
Gold heaped they there and amber. All their hair The Myrmidons shore, and shrouded with the same The body of their king. Briseis laid Her own shorn tresses on the corpse, her gift, Her last, unto her lord. Great jars of oil Full many poured they out thereon, with jars Of honey and of wine, rich blood of the grape That breathed an odour as of nectar, yea, Cast incense-breathing perfumes manifold Marvellous sweet, the precious things put forth By earth, and treasures of the sea divine.
Then, when all things were set in readiness About the pyre, all, footmen, charioteers, Compassed that woeful bale, clashing their arms, While, from the viewless heights Olympian, Zeus Rained down ambrosia on dead Aeacus' son.
For honour to the Goddess, Nereus' child, He sent to Aeolus Hermes, bidding him Summon the sacred might of his swift winds, For that the corpse of Aeacus' son must now Be burned. With speed he went, and Aeolus Refused not: the tempestuous North in haste He summoned, and the wild blast of the West;
And to Troy sped they on their whirlwind wings.
Fast in mad onrush, fast across the deep They darted; roared beneath them as they flew The sea, the land; above crashed thunder-voiced Clouds headlong hurtling through the firmament.
Then by decree of Zeus down on the pyre Of slain Achilles, like a charging host Swooped they; upleapt the Fire-god's madding breath:
Uprose a long wail from the Myrmidons.
Then, though with whirlwind rushes toiled the winds, All day, all night, they needs must fan the flames Ere that death-pyre burned out. Up to the heavens Vast-volumed rolled the smoke. The huge tree-trunks Groaned, writhing, bursting, in the heat, and dropped The dark-grey ash all round. So when the winds Had tirelessly fulfilled their mighty task, Back to their cave they rode cloud-charioted.
Then, when the fire had last of all consumed That hero-king, when all the steeds, the men Slain round the pyre had first been ravined up, With all the costly offerings laid around The mighty dead by Achaia's weeping sons, The glowing embers did the Myrmidons quench With wine. Then clear to be discerned were seen His bones; for nowise like the rest were they, But like an ancient Giant's; none beside With these were blent; for bulls and steeds, and sons Of Troy, with all that mingled hecatomb, Lay in a wide ring round his corse, and he Amidst them, flame-devoured, lay there alone.
So his companions groaning gathered up His bones, and in a silver casket laid Massy and deep, and banded and bestarred With flashing gold; and Nereus' daughters shed Ambrosia over them, and precious nards For honour to Achilles: fat of kine And amber honey poured they over all.
A golden vase his mother gave, the gift In old time of the Wine-god, glorious work Of the craft-master Fire-god, in the which They laid the casket that enclosed the bones Of mighty-souled Achilles. All around The Argives heaped a barrow, a giant sign, Upon a foreland's uttermost end, beside The Hellespont's deep waters, wailing loud Farewells unto the Myrmidons' hero-king.
Nor stayed the immortal steeds of Aeacus' son Tearless beside the ships; they also mourned Their slain king: sorely loth were they to abide Longer mid mortal men or Argive steeds Bearing a burden of consuming grief;
But fain were they to soar through air, afar From wretched men, over the Ocean's streams, Over the Sea-queen's caverns, unto where Divine Podarge bare that storm-foot twain Begotten of the West-wind clarion-voiced Yea, and they had accomplished their desire, But the Gods' purpose held them back, until From Scyros' isle Achilles' fleetfoot son Should come. Him waited they to welcome, when He came unto the war-host; for the Fates, Daughters of holy Chaos, at their birth Had spun the life-threads of those deathless foals, Even to serve Poseidon first, and next Peleus the dauntless king, Achilles then The invincible, and, after these, the fourth, The mighty-hearted Neoptolemus, Whom after death to the Elysian Plain They were to bear, unto the Blessed Land, By Zeus' decree. For which cause, though their hearts Were pierced with bitter anguish, they abode Still by the ships, with spirits sorrowing For their old lord, and yearning for the new.
Then from the surge of heavy-plunging seas Rose the Earth-shaker. No man saw his feet Pace up the strand, but suddenly he stood Beside the Nereid Goddesses, and spake To Thetis, yet for Achilles bowed with grief:
"Refrain from endless mourning for thy son.
Not with the dead shall he abide, but dwell With Gods, as doth the might of Herakles, And Dionysus ever fair. Not him Dread doom shall prison in darkness evermore, Nor Hades keep him. To the light of Zeus Soon shall he rise; and I will give to him A holy island for my gift: it lies Within the Euxine Sea: there evermore A God thy son shall be. The tribes that dwell Around shall as mine own self honour him With incense and with steam of sacrifice.
Hush thy laments, vex not thine heart with grief."
Then like a wind-breath had he passed away Over the sea, when that consoling word Was spoken; and a little in her breast Revived the spirit of Thetis: and the God Brought this to pass thereafter. All the host Moved moaning thence, and came unto the ships That brought them o'er from Hellas. Then returned To Helicon the Muses: 'neath the sea, Wailing the dear dead, Nereus' Daughters sank,
