But Nestor spoke, they listen’d and obey’d

(From old experience Nestor’s counsel springs,

And long vicissitudes of human things):

‘Forbear your flight: fair Thetis from the main

To mourn Achilles leads her azure train.’

Around thee stand the daughters of the deep,

Robe thee in heavenly vests, and round thee weep:

Round thee, the Muses, with alternate strain,

In ever-consecrating verse, complain.

Each warlike Greek the moving music hears,

And iron-hearted heroes melt in tears.

Till seventeen nights and seventeen days return’d

All that was mortal or immortal mourn’d,

To flames we gave thee, the succeeding day,

And fatted sheep and sable oxen slay;

With oils and honey blazed the augmented fires,

And, like a god adorn’d, thy earthly part expires.

Unnumber’d warriors round the burning pile

Urge the fleet coursers or the racer’s toil;

Thick clouds of dust o’er all the circle rise,

And the mix’d clamour thunders in the skies.

Soon as absorb’d in all-embracing flame

Sunk what was mortal of thy mighty name,

We then collect thy snowy bones, and place

With wines and unguents in a golden vase

(The vase to Thetis Bacchus gave of old,

And Vulcan’s art enrich’d the sculptured gold).

There, we thy relics, great Achilles! blend

With dear Patroclus, thy departed friend:

In the same urn a separate space contains

Thy next beloved, Antilochus’ remains.

Now all the sons of warlike Greece surround

Thy destined tomb and cast a mighty mound;

High on the shore the growing hill we raise,

That wide the extended Hellespont surveys;

Where all, from age to age, who pass the coast,

May point Achilles’ tomb, and hail the mighty ghost.

Thetis herself to all our peers proclaims

Heroic prizes and exequial games;

The gods assented; and around thee lay

Rich spoils and gifts that blazed against the day.

Oft have I seen with solemn funeral games

Heroes and kings committed to the flames;