Coronus sprung, who Caeneus call’d his sire. 915
Twice twenty ships awaited their command. 
Guneus from Cyphus twenty and two ships
Led forth; the Enienes him obey’d,
And the robust Peroebi, warriors bold,
And dwellers on Dodona’s wintry brow. 920
To these were join’d who till the pleasant fields
Where Titaresius winds; the gentle flood
Pours into Peneus all his limpid stores,
But with the silver-eddied Peneus flows
Unmixt as oil;[27] for Stygian is his stream, 925
And Styx is the inviolable oath. 
Last with his forty ships, Tenthredon’s son,
The active Prothoues came.  From the green banks
Of Peneus his Magnesians far and near
He gather’d, and from Pelion forest-crown’d. 930
These were the princes and the Chiefs of Greece. 
Say, Muse, who most in personal desert
Excell’d, and whose were the most warlike steeds
And of the noblest strain.  Their hue, their age,
Their height the same, swift as the winds of heaven 935
And passing far all others, were the mares
Which drew Eumelus; on Pierian hills
The heavenly Archer of the silver bow,
Apollo, bred them.  But of men, the chief
Was Telamonian Ajax, while wrath-bound 940
Achilles lay; for he was worthier far,
And more illustrious were the steeds which bore
The noble son of Peleus; but revenge
On Agamemnon leader of the host
Was all his thought, while in his gallant ships 945
Sharp-keel’d to cut the foaming flood, he lay. 
Meantime, along the margin of the deep
His soldiers hurled the disk, or bent the bow. 
Or to its mark dispatch’d the quivering lance. 
Beside the chariots stood the unharness’d steeds 950
Cropping the lotus, or at leisure browsed
On celery wild, from watery freshes gleaned. 
Beneath the shadow of the sheltering tent
The chariot stood, while they, the charioteers
Roam’d here and there the camp, their warlike lord 955
Regretting sad, and idle for his sake. 
As if a fire had burnt along the ground,
Such seem’d their march; earth groan’d their steps beneath;
As when in Arimi, where fame reports
Typhoeus stretch’d, the fires of angry Jove 960
Down darted, lash the ground, so groan’d the earth
Beneath them, for they traversed swift the plain. 
And now from Jove, with heavy tidings charged,
Wind-footed Iris to the Trojans came. 
It was the time of council, when the throng 965
At Priam’s gate assembled, young and old: 
Them, standing nigh, the messenger of heaven
Accosted with the voice of Priam’s son,
Polites.  He, confiding in his speed
For sure deliverance, posted was abroad 970
On AEsyeta’s tomb,[28] intent to watch
When the Achaian host should leave the fleet.