Brass-built arriving of Olympian Jove,
Sat on his knees, weeping till all her robe
Ambrosial shook. The mighty Father smiled,
And to his bosom straining her, inquired. 595
Daughter beloved! who, which of all the Gods
Hath raised his hand, presumptuous, against thee,
As if convicted of some open wrong?
To whom the clear-voiced Huntress crescent-crown'd.
My Father! Juno, thy own consort fair 600
My sorrow caused, from whom dispute and strife
Perpetual, threaten the immortal Powers.
Thus they in heaven mutual conferr'd. Meantime
Apollo into sacred Troy return'd
Mindful to guard her bulwarks, lest the Greeks 605
Too soon for Fate should desolate the town.
The other Gods, some angry, some elate
With victory, the Olympian heights regain'd,
And sat beside the Thunderer. But the son
Of Peleus--He both Trojans slew and steeds. 610
As when in volumes slow smoke climbs the skies
From some great city which the Gods have fired
Vindictive, sorrow thence to many ensues
With mischief, and to all labor severe,
So caused Achilles labor on that day, 615
Severe, and mischief to the men of Troy.
But ancient Priam from a sacred tower
Stood looking forth, whence soon he noticed vast
Achilles, before whom the Trojans fled
All courage lost. Descending from the tower 620
With mournful cries and hasting to the wall
He thus enjoin'd the keepers of the gates.
Hold wide the portals till the flying host
Re-enter, for himself is nigh, himself
Achilles drives them home. Now, wo to Troy! 625
But soon as safe within the walls received
They breathe again, shut fast the ponderous gates
At once, lest that destroyer also pass.
He said; they, shooting back the bars, threw wide
The gates and saved the people, whom to aid 630
Apollo also sprang into the field,
They, parch'd with drought and whiten'd all with dust,
Flew right toward the town, while, spear in hand,
Achilles press'd them, vengeance in his heart
And all on fire for glory. Then, full sure, 635
Ilium, the city of lofty gates, had fallen
Won by the Grecians, had not Phoebus roused
Antenor's valiant son, the noble Chief
Agenor; him with dauntless might he fill'd,
And shielding him against the stroke of fat