Of warriors smitten by the sword, and all The waters as they ran redden’d with blood.  As smaller fishes, flying the pursuit Of some huge dolphin, terrified, the creeks And secret hollows of a haven fill, 30 For none of all that he can seize he spares, So lurk’d the trembling Trojans in the caves Of Xanthus’ awful flood.  But he (his hands Wearied at length with slaughter) from the rest Twelve youths selected whom to death he doom’d, 35 In vengeance for his loved Patroclus slain.  Them stupified with dread like fawns he drove Forth from the river, manacling their hands Behind them fast with their own tunic-strings, And gave them to his warrior train in charge. 40 Then, ardent still for blood, rushing again Toward the stream, Dardanian Priam’s son He met, Lycaon, as he climb’d the bank.  Him erst by night, in his own father’s field Finding him, he had led captive away. 45 Lycaon was employ’d cutting green shoots Of the wild-fig for chariot-rings, when lo!  Terrible, unforeseen, Achilles came.  He seized and sent him in a ship afar To Lemnos; there the son of Jason paid 50 His price, and, at great cost, Eetion The guest of Jason, thence redeeming him, Sent him to fair Arisba;[3] but he ’scaped Thence also and regain’d his father’s house.  Eleven days, at his return, he gave 55 To recreation joyous with his friends, And on the twelfth his fate cast him again Into Achilles’ hands, who to the shades Now doom’d him, howsoever loth to go.  Soon as Achilles swiftest of the swift 60 Him naked saw (for neither spear had he Nor shield nor helmet, but, when he emerged, Weary and faint had cast them all away) Indignant to his mighty self he said. 
  Gods!  I behold a miracle!  Ere long 65
The valiant Trojans whom my self have slain Shall rise from Erebus, for he is here, The self-same warrior whom I lately sold At Lemnos, free, and in the field again.  The hoary deep is prison strong enough 70 For most, but not for him.  Now shall he taste The point of this my spear, that I may learn By sure experience, whether hell itself That holds the strongest fast, can him detain, Or whether he shall thence also escape. 75
  While musing thus he stood, stunn’d with dismay
The youth approach’d, eager to clasp his knees, For vehement he felt the dread of death Working within him; with his Pelian ash Uplifted high noble Achilles stood 80 Ardent to smite him; he with body bent Ran under it, and to his knees adhered; The weapon, missing him, implanted stood Close at his back, when, seizing with one hand Achilles’ knees, he with the other grasp’d 85 The dreadful beam, resolute through despair, And in wing’d accents suppliant thus began. 
  Oh spare me! pity me!  Behold I