As from the summit of Olympus spreads A cloud into the sky that late was clear, When Jove brings on the tempest, with such speed In clamorous flight the Trojans left the fleet, Yet passed they not the trench in seemly plight. The rapid steeds of Hector bore him safe Across with all his arms, while, left between The high banks of the trench, the Trojan host Struggled despairingly. The fiery steeds, Harnessed to many a chariot, left it there With broken pole. Patroclus followed close, With mighty voice encouraging the Greeks, And meditating vengeance on the foe, That noisily ran on, and right and left Were scattered, filling all the ways. The dust Rose thick and high, and spread, and reached the clouds, As with swift feet the Trojan coursers held Their way to Ilium from the tents and ships. Patroclus where he saw the wildest rout Drave thither, shouting threats. Full many a chief Fell under his own axle from his car, And chariots with a crash were overthrown. The swift, immortal horses which the gods