eves,[17] around
Dependent fringed it. She from side to side
Her eyes cerulean rolled, infusing thirst 545
Of battle endless into every breast.
War won them now, war sweeter now to each
Than gales to waft them over ocean home.[18]
As when devouring flames some forest seize
On the high mountains, splendid from afar 550
The blaze appears, so, moving on the plain,
The steel-clad host innumerous flash'd to heaven.
And as a multitude of fowls in flocks
Assembled various, geese, or cranes, or swans
Lithe-neck'd, long hovering o'er Cayster's banks 555
On wanton plumes, successive on the mead
Alight at last, and with a clang so loud
That all the hollow vale of Asius rings;
In number such from ships and tents effused,
They cover'd the Scamandrian plain; the earth 560
Rebellow'd to the feet of steeds and men.
They overspread Scamander's grassy vale,
Myriads, as leaves, or as the flowers of spring.
As in the hovel where the peasant milks
His kine in spring-time, when his pails are fill'd, 565
Thick clouds of humming insects on the wing
Swarm all around him, so the Grecians swarm'd
An unsumm'd multitude o'er all the plain,
Bright arm'd, high crested, and athirst for war.
As goat-herds separate their numerous flocks 570
With ease, though fed promiscuous, with like ease
Their leaders them on every side reduced
To martial order glorious;[19] among whom
Stood Agamemnon "with an eye like Jove's,
To threaten or command," like Mars in girth, 575
And with the port of Neptune. As the bull
Conspicuous among all the herd appears,
For he surpasses all, such Jove ordain'd
That day the son of Atreus, in the midst
Of Heroes, eminent above them all. 580
Tell me, (for ye are are heavenly, and beheld[20]
A scene, whereof the faint report alone
Hath reached our ears, remote and ill-informed,)
Tell me, ye Muses, under whom, beneath
What Chiefs of royal or of humbler note 585
Stood forth the embattled Greeks? The host at large;
_They_ were a multitude in number more
Than with ten tongues, and with ten mouths, each mouth
Made vocal with a trumpet's throat of brass
I might declare, unless the Olympian nine, 590
Jove's daughters, would the chronicle themselves