“O warrior-son of Atreus, sleepest thou? Tamer of steeds! It ill becomes a chief, Who has the charge of nations and sustains Such mighty cares, to sleep the livelong night. Give earnest heed to me, for I am come A messenger from Jove, who, though far off, Takes part in thy concerns and pities thee. He bids thee arm, with all the array of war, The long-haired Greeks, for now the hour is come Which gives into thy hands the city of Troy With all its spacious streets. The powers that dwell In the celestial mansions are no more At variance; Juno’s prayers have moved them all, And o’er the Trojans hangs a fearful doom, Decreed by Jove. Bear what I say in mind, And when thy sleep departs forget it not.”