Such were his thoughts. Achilles now drew near. Like crested Mars, the warrior-god, he came. On his right shoulder quivered fearfully The Pelian ash, and from his burnished mail There streamed a light as of a blazing fire, Or of the rising sun. When Hector saw, He trembled, nor could venture to remain, But left the gates and fled away in fear. Pelides, trusting to his rapid feet, Pursued him. As, among the mountain wilds, A falcon, fleetest of the birds of air, Darts toward a timid dove that wheels away To shun him by a sidelong flight, while he Springs after her again and yet again, And screaming follows, certain of his prey⁠— Thus onward flew Achilles, while as fast Fled Hector in dismay, with hurrying feet, Beside the wall. They passed the Mount of View, And the wind-beaten fig-tree, and they ran Along the public way by which the wall Was skirted, till they came where from the ground The two fair springs of eddying Xanthus rise⁠— One pouring a warm stream from which ascends And spreads a vapor like a smoke from fire;