“Large-eyed, imperial Juno, wouldst thou sit In council with the immortals, and assist My purposes, then Neptune, though at heart He were averse, would yet conform his will To mine and thine. If thou dost truly speak, And from thy heart, go now to where the gods Assemble, summon Iris, and with her The archer-god Apollo. Give in charge To Iris that she hasten to the host Of the mailed Greeks, and bid king Neptune leave, The battle for his palace. Let the god Phoebus, preparing Hector for the fight, Breathe strength into his frame, that so he lose The sense of pain which bows his spirit now, And he shall force the Greeks again to flee In craven fear. Then shall their flying host Fall back upon the galleys of the son Of Peleus, who shall send into the fight His friend Patroclus. Him the mighty spear Of Hector shall o’erthrow before the walls Of Ilium, after many a Trojan youth Shall by his hand have fallen, and with them My noble son, Sarpedon. Roused to rage, Then shall the great Achilles take the life