He spake, and moved the hearts of all to grief And lamentation. Rosy-fingered Morn Dawned on them as around the hapless dead They stood and wept. Then Agamemnon sent In haste from all the tents the mules and men To gather wood, and summoned to the task Meriones, himself a gallant chief, Attendant on the brave Idomeneus. These went with woodmen’s axes and with ropes Well twisted, and before them went the mules. O’er steep, o’er glen, by straight, by winding ways, They journeyed till they reached the woodland wilds Of Ida fresh with springs, and quickly felled With the keen steel the towering oaks that came Crashing to earth. Then, splitting the great trunk. They bound them on the mules, that beat the earth With hasty footsteps through the tangled wood, Impatient for the plain. Each woodcutter Shouldered a tree, for so Meriones, Companion of the brave Idomeneus, Commanded, and at last they laid them down In order on the shore, where Peleus’ son Planned that a mighty sepulchre should rise Both for his friend Patroclus and himself.