loss
  Of strength through abstinence, then soar’d again
  To her great Sire’s unperishing abode. 435
  And now the Grecians from their gallant fleet
  All pour’d themselves abroad.  As when thick snow
  From Jove descends, driven by impetuous gusts
  Of the cloud-scattering North, so frequent shone
  Issuing from the fleet the dazzling casques, 440
  Boss’d bucklers, hauberks strong, and ashen spears. 
  Upwent the flash to heaven; wide all around
  The champain laugh’d with beamy brass illumed,
  And tramplings of the warriors on all sides
  Resounded, amidst whom Achilles arm’d. 445
  He gnash’d his teeth, fire glimmer’d in his eyes,
  Anguish intolerable wrung his heart
  And fury against Troy, while he put on
  His glorious arms, the labor of a God. 
  First, to his legs his polish’d greaves he clasp’d 450
  Studded with silver, then his corselet bright
  Braced to his bosom, his huge sword of brass
  Athwart his shoulder slung, and his broad shield
  Uplifted last, luminous as the moon. 
  Such as to mariners a fire appears, 455
  Kindled by shepherds on the distant top
  Of some lone hill; they, driven by stormy winds,
  Reluctant roam far off the fishy deep,
  Such from Achilles’ burning shield divine
  A lustre struck the skies; his ponderous helm 460
  He lifted to his brows; starlike it shone,
  And shook its curling crest of bushy gold,
  By Vulcan taught to wave profuse around. 
  So clad, godlike Achilles trial made
  If his arms fitted him, and gave free scope 465
  To his proportion’d limbs; buoyant they proved
  As wings, and high upbore his airy tread. 
  He drew his father’s spear forth from his case,
  Heavy and huge and long.  That spear, of all
  Achaia’s sons, none else had power to wield; 470
  Achilles only could the Pelian spear
  Brandish, by Chiron for his father hewn
  From Pelion’s top for slaughter of the brave. 
  His coursers, then, Automedon prepared
  And Alcimus, adjusting diligent 475
  The fair caparisons; they thrust the bits
  Into their mouths, and to the chariot seat
  Extended and made fast the reins behind. 
  The splendid scourge commodious to the grasp
  Seizing, at once Automedon upsprang 480
  Into his place; behind him, arm’d complete
  Achilles mounted, as the orient sun
  All dazzling, and with awful tone his speech
  Directed to the coursers of his Sire. 
    Xanthus, and Balius of Podarges’ blood 485
  Illustrious! see ye that, the battle done,
  Ye bring whom now ye bear back to the host
  Of the Achaians in far other sort,
  Nor leave him, as ye left Patroclus, dead.[11]