Book XV

the din. Apollo marched Before them, treading down with mighty feet The banks of the deep ditch, and casting them Back to the middle, till a causey rose, Broad, and of length like that to which a spear Reaches when thrown by one who tries his strength. O’er this the Trojans poured into the camp By squadrons, with Apollo still in front, Holding the marvellous aegis. He with ease O’erthrew the rampart. As a boy at play Among the sea-shore sands in childish sport Scatters with feet and hands the little mounds He reared, thus didst thou cause the mighty work, O archer Phoebus, which the Greeks had reared With so much toil, to crumble. Thou didst fill Their hearts with eager thoughts of flight, till, hemmed Between the assailants and their ships, they stopped And bade each other stand, and raised their hands To all the gods, and offered vows aloud. Gerenian Nestor, guardian of the Greeks, With arms extended toward the starry skies, Prayed earnestly: “O Father Jove, if e’er In fruitful Argos there were burned to thee The thighs of fattened oxen or of sheep, By one who asked a safe return to Greece, And thou didst promise it, remember him, God of Olympus, and avert from us The day of evil. Suffer