es
Shedding the hottest of tears, when he saw his comrade so faithful
Stretch'd on that sorrowful couch, transfixt with the sharp pointed iron--
Him he had lately despatch'd with chariot and steeds to the war-field
Never, alas, to receive from that red war-field returning.

THE MEETING OF ODYSSES AND ACHILLES.

In Hades.
From the Odyssey.

Tow'rds me came the Shade of Peleidean Achilles,
And of Patroclus belov'd, and Antilochus daring and blameless,
And of Aias--of Him, who in bulk and beauty of figure
Far excell'd every Greek, to Peleides only inferior.
Me on the instant knew the Shade of Eacus' grandson,
And in sorrowful mood with words swift flowing address'd me.

Tell me Laertes' son, Odysses matchless in wisdom,
What fresh wondrous deed within thy brain thou art brooding,
That to the vasty deep of Hades down thou descendest,
Where the poor dead abide, mere idle shapes of the living.

Soon as the Hero ceas'd, in answer thus I address'd him:
Know, O Peleus' son, Achilles bravest of Grecians,
Seeking Tiresias hither I've come, to beg of him counsel
How I may Ithaca reach with its high-ridg'd, cloud-cover'd mountains;
Nor to Achaia I've been, nor my foot on the shore of my country
Wretch have I plac'd, whom ever misfortunes pursue; but no mortal
E'er was so blest, as Thou, or ever will be, O Achilles,
For when alive, as a God, we Argives held thee in honor;
Now e'en here, how high above the mighty departed
Thou dost in majesty rise; grieve not though dead, O Achilles.

Soon as these words I'd said, the Shade in answer address'd me:
Talk not of death to me, in mercy, glorious Odysses,
For on the Earth's green sod I'd rather toil as the hireling
Of some inglorious wight, and of one as poor as inglorious,
Than over all the dead in Hades reign as a Monarch;
But of my noble boy some tiding give me, I pray thee,
Whether or not he's fam'd as a gallant leader in battle;
And if aught thou hast heard of good old Peleus, tell me;
Still is he held in dread in Myrmidonian cities,
Or has he lost respect in Hellas-land and in Pthia,
Now old age has robb'd his hands and feet of their vigour?
Think not an aid so good I'm now in the light of the sun-beam,
As of old time I prov'd on the broad domain of the Trojans,
When, in the Argives aid, I slew the best of their army;
Were I to enter now, as I am, the hall of my father,
Full little dread these hands would wake in the bosoms of any,
Who in that hall do serve, and a