As when two lines of reapers, face to face, In some rich landlord’s field of barley or wheat Move on, and fast the severed handfuls fall, So, springing on each other, they of Troy And they of Argos smote each other down, And neither thought of ignominious flight. They met each other man to man; they rushed Like wolves to combat. Cruel Strife looked on Rejoicing; she alone of all the gods Was present in the battle; all the rest, Far off, sat quiet in their palaces, The glorious mansions built for them along The summits of Olympus. Yet they all Blamed Saturn’s son that he should honor thus The Trojans. The All-Father heeded not Their murmurings, but, seated by himself Apart, exulting in his sovereignty, Looked on the city of Troy, the ships of Greece, The gleam of arms, the slayers, and the slain.