So spake she, and departed. Suddenly Arose the Winds with tumult, driving on The clouds before them. Soon they reached the deep; Beneath the violence of their sounding breath The billows heaved. They swept the fertile fields Of Troas, and descended on the pyre, And mightily it blazed with fearful roar. All night they howled and tossed the flames. All night Stood swift Achilles, holding in his hand A double beaker; from a golden jar He dipped the wine, and poured it forth, and steeped The earth around, and called upon the soul Of his unhappy friend. As one laments A newly married son upon whose corse The flames are feeding, and whose death has made His parents wretched, so did Peleus’ son, Burning the body of his comrade, mourn, As round the pyre he moved with frequent sighs.