from whose diligent hand It came. And first about his legs he clasped The beautiful greaves, with silver fastenings, Fitted the corselet to his bosom next, And from his shoulders hung the brazen sword With silver studs, and then he took the shield, Massive and broad, whose brightness streamed as far As the moon’s rays. And as at sea the light Of beacon, blazing in some lonely spot By night, upon a mountain summit, shines To mariners whom the tempest’s force has driven Far from their friends across the fishy deep, So from that glorious buckler of the son Of Peleus, nobly wrought, a radiance streamed Into the sky. And then he raised and placed Upon his head the impenetrable helm With horse-hair plume. It glittered like a star, And all the shining tufts of golden thread, With which the maker’s hand had thickly set Its cone, were shaken. Next the high-born chief Tried his new arms, to know if they were well Adjusted to his shape, and left his limbs Free play. They seemed like wings, and lifted up The shepherd of the people. Then he drew From its ancestral sheath his father’s spear, Heavy and huge and tough. No man of all The Grecian host could wield that weapon save Achilles only. ’Twas a Pelian ash, Which Chiron for his father had cut down On Pelion’s highest peak, to be the death Of heroes. Meantime, busy with the steeds, Automedon and Alcimus put on Their trappings and their yoke, and round their necks Bound the fair collars, thrust into their mouths The bit, and backward drew the reins to meet The well-wrought chariot. Then Automedon Took in his hand the showy lash, and leaped Into the seat. Behind him, all equipped For war, Achilles mounted, in a blaze Of arms that dazzled like the sun, and thus Called to his father’s steeds with terrible voice:—
“Xanthus and Balius, whom Podargè bore— A noble stock—I charge you to bring back Into the Grecian camp, the battle done, Him whom ye now are bearing to the field, Nor leave him, as ye left Patroclus, dead.”
Swift-footed Xanthus from beneath the yoke Answered him with bowed head and drooping mane That, flowing through the yoke-ring swept the ground— For Juno gave him then the power of speech:—