Slept no soft sleep, with violent visions fed,
  The blind bulk of the immeasurable beast. 
  And seeing, he shuddered with sharp lust of praise
  Through all his limbs, and launched a double dart,
  And missed; for much desire divided him,
  Too hot of spirit and feebler than his will,
  That his hand failed, though fervent; and the shaft,
  Sundering the rushes, in a tamarisk stem
  Shook, and stuck fast; then all abode save one,
  The Arcadian Atalanta; from her side
  Sprang her hounds, labouring at the leash, and slipped,
  And plashed ear-deep with plunging feet; but she
  Saying, Speed it as I send it for thy sake,
  Goddess, drew bow and loosed, the sudden string
  Rang, and sprang inward, and the waterish air
  Hissed, and the moist plumes of the songless reeds
  Moved as a wave which the wind moves no more. 
  But the boar heaved half out of ooze and slime
  His tense flank trembling round the barbed wound,
  Hateful, and fiery with invasive eyes
  And bristling with intolerable hair
  Plunged, and the hounds clung, and green flowers and white
  Reddened and broke all round them where they came. 
  And charging with sheer tusk he drove, and smote
  Hyleus; and sharp death caught his sudden soul,
  And violent sleep shed night upon his eyes. 
  Then Peleus, with strong strain of hand and heart,
  Shot; but the sidelong arrow slid, and slew
  His comrade born and loving countryman,
  Under the left arm smitten, as he no less
  Poised a like arrow; and bright blood brake afoam,
  And falling, and weighed back by clamorous arms,
  Sharp rang the dead limbs of Eurytion. 
  Then one shot happier; the Cadmean seer,
  Amphiaraus; for his sacred shaft
  Pierced the red circlet of one ravening eye
  Beneath the brute brows of the sanguine boar,
  Now bloodier from one slain; but he so galled
  Sprang straight, and rearing cried no lesser cry
  Than thunder and the roar of wintering streams
  That mix their own foam with the yellower sea;
  And as a tower that falls by fire in fight
  With ruin of walls and all its archery,
  And breaks the iron flower of war beneath,
  Crushing charred limbs and molten arms of men;
  So through crushed branches and the reddening brake
  Clamoured and crashed the fervour of his feet,
  And trampled, springing sideways from the tusk,
  Too tardy a moving mould of heavy strength,
  Ancaeus; and as flakes of weak-winged snow
  Break, all the hard thews of his heaving limbs
  Broke, and rent flesh fell every way, and blood
  Flew, and fierce fragments of no more a man. 
  Then all the heroes drew sharp breath, and gazed,
  And smote not; but Meleager, but thy son,
  Right in the wild way of the coming curse
  Rock-rooted, fair with fierce and fastened lips,
  Clear eyes, and springing muscle and shortening