Iliad, Volume 2

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A.S. Barnes & Burr, 1865
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Page 37 - In this was every art, and every charm, To win the wisest, and the coldest warm : Fond love, the gentle vow, the gay desire, The kind deceit, the still reviving fire, 250 Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs, Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes.
Page 205 - Drain their whole realm to buy one funeral flame : Their Hector on the pile they should not see, Nor rob the vultures of one limb of thee. Then thus the chief his dying accents drew ; Thy rage, implacable ! too well I knew : The Furies that relentless breast have steel'd, And curst thee with a heart that cannot yield.
Page 157 - Not through our crime, or slowness in the course, Fell thy Patroclus, but by heavenly force ; The bright far-shooting god who gilds the day (Confest we saw him) tore his arms away. No — could our swiftness o'er the winds prevail, Or beat the pinions of the western gale, All were in vain — the fates thy death demand, Due to a mortal and immortal hand.
Page 4 - He mounts the car, the golden scourge applies, He sits superior, and the chariot flies : His whirling wheels the glassy surface sweep; Th...
Page 129 - Achilles' hand ; Since here, for brutal courage far renown'd, I live an idle burden to the ground, (Others in council fam'd for nobler skill, More useful to preserve, than 1 to kill) Let me — But oh ! ye gracious Powers above ! Wrath and revenge from men and Gods remove: Far, far too dear to every mortal breast, Sweet to the soul, as honey to the taste ; Gathering like vapours of a noxious kind From fiery blood, and darkening all the mind.
Page 71 - Your great forefathers' virtues and your own. What aids expect you in this utmost strait? What bulwarks rising between you and Fate ? No aids, no bulwarks your retreat attend, No friends to help, no city to defend. This spot is all you have, to lose or keep; There stand the Trojans, and here rolls the deep. Tis hostile ground you tread ; your native lands Far, far from hence : your fates are in your hands,' Raging he spoke : nor further wastes his breath, But turns his javelin to the work of death.
Page 237 - Asteropaeus possess'd of old (A Thracian blade, distinct with studs of gold) Shall pay the stroke, and grace the striker's side: These arms in common let the chiefs divide; For each brave champion, when the combat ends, A sumptuous banquet at our tent attends.
Page 218 - First march the heavy Mules, securely slow, O'er Hills, o'er Dales, o'er Crags, o'er Rocks, they go : Jumping high o'er the Shrubs of the rough Ground, Rattle the clatt'ring Cars, and the shockt Axles bound.
Page 142 - The gatherers follow, and collect in bands ; And last the children, in whose arms are borne (Too short to gripe them) the brown sheaves of corn. The rustic monarch of the field descries, With silent glee, the heaps around him rise. A ready banquet on the turf is laid, Beneath an ample oak's expanded shade. The victim ox the sturdy youth prepare ; The reaper's due repast, the women's care.
Page 12 - Invoked by both, relentless they dispose, To these glad conquest, murderous rout to those. So march'd the leaders of the Cretan train, And their bright arms shot horror o'er the plain. Then first spake Merion : " Shall we join the right, Or combat in the centre of the fight ? Or to the left our wonted succour lend ? Hazard and fame all parts alike attend.

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