The Iliad (Wisehouse Classics Edition). Homer

Telamon commands;

      In twelve black ships to Troy they steer their course,

      And with the great Athenians join their force.

      Next move to war the generous Argive train,

      From high Troezene, and Maseta’s plain,

      And fair AEgina circled by the main:

      Whom strong Tyrinthe’s lofty walls surround,

      And Epidaure with viny harvests crown’d:

      And where fair Asinen and Hermoin show

      Their cliffs above, and ample bay below.

      These by the brave Euryalus were led,

      Great Sthenelus, and greater Diomed;

      But chief Tydides bore the sovereign sway:

      In fourscore barks they plough the watery way.

      The proud Mycene arms her martial powers,

      Cleone, Corinth, with imperial towers, ²⁸

      Fair Araethyrea, Ornia’s fruitful plain,

      And AEgion, and Adrastus’ ancient reign;

      And those who dwell along the sandy shore,

      And where Pellene yields her fleecy store,

      Where Helice and Hyperesia lie,

      And Gonoessa’s spires salute the sky.

      Great Agamemnon rules the numerous band,

      A hundred vessels in long order stand,

      And crowded nations wait his dread command.

      High on the deck the king of men appears,

      And his refulgent arms in triumph wears;

      Proud of his host, unrivall’d in his reign,

      In silent pomp he moves along the main.

      His brother follows, and to vengeance warms

      The hardy Spartans, exercised in arms:

      Phares and Brysia’s valiant troops, and those

      Whom Lacedaemon’s lofty hills inclose;

      Or Messe’s towers for silver doves renown’d,

      Amyclae, Laas, Augia’s happy ground,

      And those whom OEtylos’ low walls contain,

      And Helos, on the margin of the main:

      These, o’er the bending ocean, Helen’s cause,

      In sixty ships with Menelaus draws:

      Eager and loud from man to man he flies,

      Revenge and fury flaming in his eyes;

      While vainly fond, in fancy oft he hears

      The fair one’s grief, and sees her falling tears.

      In ninety sail, from Pylos’ sandy coast,

      Nestor the sage conducts his chosen host:

      From Amphigenia’s ever-fruitful land,

      Where AEpy high, and little Pteleon stand;

      Where beauteous Arene her structures shows,

      And Thryon’s walls Alpheus’ streams inclose:

      And Dorion, famed for Thamyris’ disgrace,

      Superior once of all the tuneful race,

      Till, vain of mortals’ empty praise, he strove

      To match the seed of cloud-compelling Jove!

      Too daring bard! whose unsuccessful pride

      The immortal Muses in their art defied.

      The avenging Muses of the light of day

      Deprived his eyes, and snatch’d his voice away;

      No more his heavenly voice was heard to sing,

      His hand no more awaked the silver string.

      Where under high Cyllene, crown’d with wood,

      The shaded tomb of old AEpytus stood;

      From Ripe, Stratie, Tegea’s bordering towns,

      The Phenean fields, and Orchomenian downs,

      Where the fat herds in plenteous pasture rove;

      And Stymphelus with her surrounding grove;

      Parrhasia, on her snowy cliffs reclined,

      And high Enispe shook by wintry wind,

      And fair Mantinea’s ever-pleasing site;

      In sixty sail the Arcadian bands unite.

      Bold Agapenor, glorious at their head,

      (Ancaeus’ son) the mighty squadron led.

      Their ships, supplied by Agamemnon’s care,

      Through roaring seas the wondering warriors bear;

      The first to battle on the appointed plain,

      But new to all the dangers of the main.

      Those, where fair Elis and Buprasium join;

      Whom Hyrmin, here, and Myrsinus confine,

      And bounded there, where o’er the valleys rose

      The Olenian rock; and where Alisium flows;

      Beneath four chiefs (a numerous army) came:

      The strength and glory of the Epean name.

      In separate squadrons these their train divide,

      Each leads ten vessels through the yielding tide.

      One was Amphimachus, and Thalpius one;

      (Eurytus’ this, and that Teatus’ son;)

      Diores sprung from Amarynceus’ line;

      And great Polyxenus, of force divine.

      But those who view fair Elis o’er the seas

      From the blest islands of the Echinades,

      In forty vessels under Meges move,

      Begot by Phyleus, the beloved of Jove:

      To strong Dulichium from his sire he fled,

      And thence to Troy his hardy warriors led.

      Ulysses follow’d through the watery road,

      A chief, in wisdom equal to a god.

      With those whom Cephalenia’s line inclosed,

      Or till their fields along the coast opposed;

      Or where fair Ithaca o’erlooks the floods,

      Where high Neritos shakes his waving woods,

      Where AEgilipa’s rugged sides are seen,

      Crocylia rocky, and Zacynthus green.

      These in twelve galleys with vermilion prores,

      Beneath his conduct sought the Phrygian shores.

      Thoas came next, Andraemon’s valiant son,

      From Pleuron’s walls, and chalky Calydon,

      And rough Pylene, and the Olenian steep,

      And Chalcis, beaten by the rolling deep.

      He led the warriors from the AEtolian shore,

      For now the sons of OEneus were no more!

      The glories of the mighty race were fled!

      OEneus himself, and Meleager dead!

      To