The goddess-born Achilles, swift of foot, Beside his ships still brooded o’er his wrath, Nor came to council with the illustrious chiefs, Nor to the war, but suffered idleness To eat his heart away; for well he loved Clamor and combat. But when now, at length, The twelfth day came, the ever-living gods Returned together to the Olympian mount With Jove, their leader. Thetis kept in mind Her son’s desire, and, with the early morn, Emerging from the depths of ocean, climbed To the great heaven and the high mount, and found All-seeing Jove, who, from the rest apart, Was seated on the loftiest pinnacle Of many-peaked Olympus. She sat down Before the son of Saturn, clasped his knees With her left arm, and lifted up her right In supplication to the Sovereign One:⁠—