Nor Flight was absent, nor insatiate Strife, 525
Sister and mate of homicidal Mars,
Who small at first, but swift to grow, from earth
Her towering crest lifts gradual to the skies. 
She, foe alike to both, the brands dispersed
Of burning hate between them, and the woes 530
Enhanced of battle wheresoe’er she pass’d. 
And now the battle join’d.  Shield clash’d with shield[16]
And spear with spear, conflicting corselets rang,
Boss’d bucklers met, and tumult wild arose. 
Then, many a yell was heard, and many a shout 535
Loud intermix’d, the slayer o’er the maim’d
Exulting, and the field was drench’d with blood. 
As when two winter torrents rolling down
The mountains, shoot their floods through gulleys huge
Into one gulf below, station’d remote 540
The shepherd in the uplands hears the roar;
Such was the thunder of the mingling hosts. 
And first, Antilochus a Trojan Chief
Slew Echepolus, from Thalysias sprung,
Contending valiant in the van of Troy. 545
Him smiting on his crested casque, he drove
The brazen lance into his front, and pierced
The bones within; night overspread his eyes,
And in fierce battle, like a tower, he fell. 
Him fallen by both feet Calchodon’s son 550
Seized, royal Elephenor, leader brave
Of the Abantes, and in haste to strip
His armor, drew him from the fight aside. 
But short was that attempt.  Him so employ’d
Dauntless Agenor mark’d, and as he stoop’d, 555
In his unshielded flank a pointed spear
Implanted deep; he languid sunk and died. 
So Elephenor fell, for whom arose
Sharp conflict; Greeks and Trojans mutual flew
Like wolves to battle, and man grappled man. 560
Then Telamonian Ajax, in his prime
Of youthful vigor Simoeisius slew,[17]
Son of Anthemion.  Him on Simois’ banks
His mother bore, when with her parents once
She came from Ida down to view the flocks, 565
And thence they named him; but his parents’
He lived not to requite, in early youth
Slain by the spear of Ajax famed in arms. 
For him advancing Ajax at the pap
Wounded; right through his shoulder driven the point 570
Stood forth behind; he fell, and press’d the dust. 
So in some spacious marsh the poplar falls
Smooth-skinn’d, with boughs unladen save aloft;
Some chariot-builder with his axe the trunk
Severs, that he may warp it to a wheel 575
Of shapely form; meantime exposed it lies
To parching airs beside the running stream;
Such Simoeisius seemed, Anthemion’s son,
Whom noble Ajax slew.  But soon at him
Antiphus, son of Priam, bright in arms, 580
Hurl’d through the multitude his pointed spear. 
He erred from Ajax, but he pierced the groin