Those from Methone and Olizon’s rocks, And Meliboea and Thaumacia, filled Seven ships, with Philoctetes for their chief, A warrior skilled to bend the bow. Each barque Held fifty rowers, bowmen all, and armed For stubborn battle. But their leader lay Far in an island, suffering grievous pangs— The hallowed isle of Lemnos. There the Greeks Left him, in torture from a venomed wound Made by a serpent’s fangs. He lay and pined. Yet was the moment near when they who thus Forsook their king should think of him again. Meantime his troops were not without a chief; Though greatly they desired their ancient lord, For now the base-born Medon marshalled them, Son of Oileus. Rhene brought him forth To that destroyer of strong fortresses.
The men of Tricca and Ithome’s hills, And they who held Oechalia and the town Of Eurytus the Aechalian, had for chiefs two sons of Aesculapius, healers both, And skilful—Podalirius one, and one Machaon. Thirty hollow barques were theirs.
The dwellers of Ormenium, they whose homes Were by the Hyperian fount, and they Who held Asterium and the snowy peaks Of Titanus, obeyed Eurypylus, Evaemon’s son, and far renowned. A fleet Of forty dark-ribbed vessels followed him.
Those who possessed Argissa, those who held Gyrtonè, Orthè, and Helonè, those Who dwelt in Oloösson with white walls, The sturdy warrior Polypoetes led, Son of Pirithoüs, who derived his birth From deathless Jove. Hippodameia bore The warrior to Pirithoüs on the day When he took vengeance on the shaggy brood Of Centaurs, and from Pelion drove them forth To Aethicae. Yet not alone in rule Was Polypoetes, for Leonteus, sprung From the large-souled Coronus, Caeneus’ son, Shared with him the command. With them a fleet Of forty dark-hulled vessels came to Troy.