So the fleet Iris spake, and passed away, And then arose Achilles, dear to Jove, While o’er his ample shoulders Pallas held Her fringèd aegis. The great goddess caused A golden cloud to gather round his head And kindled in the cloud a dazzling flame. And as when smoke, ascending to the sky, Hangs o’er some city in a distant isle, Which enemies beleaguer, swarming forth From their own city, and in hateful strife Contend all day, but when the sun goes down Forthwith blaze many bale-fires, sending up A brightness which the neighboring realms may see, That haply they may send their ships and drive The war away⁠—so from the hero’s head That flame streamed upward to the sky. He came Without the wall and stood beside the trench, Nor mingled with the Greeks, for he revered His mother’s words. He stood and called aloud, And Pallas, from the host, returned his shout⁠— A shout that carried infinite dismay Into the Trojan squadrons. As the sound Of trumpet rises clear when deadly foes Lay siege to a walled city, such was heard