Achilles issued to his warriors bold,
That all should gird their armor, and the steeds
Join to their chariots; undelaying each
Complied, and in bright arms stood soon array’d. 
Then mounted combatants and charioteers. 165
First, moved the chariots, next, the infantry
Proceeded numerous, amid whom his friends,
Bearing the body of Patroclus, went. 
They poll’d their heads, and cover’d him with hair
Shower’d over all his body, while behind 170
Noble Achilles march’d, the hero’s head
Sustaining sorrowful, for to the realms
Of Ades a distinguish’d friend he sent. 
And now, arriving on the ground erewhile
Mark’d by Achilles, setting down the dead, 175
They heap’d the fuel quick, a lofty pile.[3]
But Peleus’ son, on other thoughts intent,
Retiring from the funeral pile, shore off
His amber ringlets,[4] whose exuberant growth
Sacred to Sperchius he had kept unshorn, 180
And looking o’er the gloomy deep, he said. 
Sperchius! in vain Peleus my father vow’d
That, hence returning to my native land,
These ringlets shorn I should present to thee[5]
With a whole hecatomb, and should, beside, 185
Rams offer fifty at thy fountain head
In thy own field, at thy own fragrant shrine. 
So vow’d the hoary Chief, whose wishes thou
Leavest unperform’d.  Since, therefore, never more
I see my native home, the hero these 190
Patroclus takes down with him to the shades. 
He said, and filling with his hair the hand
Of his dead friend, the sorrows of his train
Waken’d afresh.  And now the lamp of day
Westering[6] apace, had left them still in tears, 195
Had not Achilles suddenly address’d
King Agamemnon, standing at his side. 
Atrides! (for Achaia’s sons thy word
Will readiest execute) we may with grief
Satiate ourselves hereafter; but, the host 200
Dispersing from the pile, now give command
That they prepare repast; ourselves,[7] to whom
These labors in peculiar appertain
Will finish them; but bid the Chiefs abide. 
Which when imperial Agamemnon heard, 205
He scatter’d instant to their several ships
The people; but the burial-dressers thence
Went not; they, still abiding, heap’d the pile. 
A hundred feet of breadth from side to side
They gave to it, and on the summit placed 210
With sorrowing hearts the body of the dead. 
Many a fat sheep, with many an ox full-horn’d
They flay’d before the pile, busy their task
Administering, and Peleus’ son the fat
Taking from every victim, overspread 215
Complete the body with it of his friend[8]
Patroclus, and the flay’d beasts heap’d around. 
Then, placing flagons on the pile, replete