Works

Argument Of The Tenth Book.


Diomede and Ulysses enter the Trojan host by night, and slay Rhesus.



All night the leaders of the host of Greece...

Argument Of The Eleventh Book.

...

Argument Of The Twelfth Book.


The Trojans assail the ramparts, and Hector forces the gates.



So was Menoetius' gallant son employ'd
Healing Eurypylus. The Greeks, meantime,...

Argument Of The Thirteenth Book.

...

Argument Of The Fourteenth Book.

...

Argument Of The Nineteenth Book.


Achilles is reconciled to Agamemnon, and clothed in new armor forged by Vulcan, leads out the Myrmidons to battle.


...

Argument Of The Fifteenth Book.

...

Argument Of The Sixteenth Book.

...

Argument Of The Seventeenth Book.

...

Argument Of The Eighteenth Book.


Achilles, by command of Juno, shows himself to the Trojans, who fly at his appearance; Vulcan, at the insistence of Thetis, forges for him a suit of armor.


...

Argument Of The Twentieth Book.

...

Argument Of The Twenty-First Book.

...

Argument Of The Twenty-Second Book.


Achilles slays Hector.



Thus they, throughout all Troy, like hunted fawns
Dispersed, their trickling limbs at leisure cool'd,...

Argument Of The Twenty-Third Book.


The body of Patroclus is burned, and the funeral games ensue.



Such mourning was in Troy; meantime the Greeks...

On, loitering Muse, the swift Stream chides us on!
Albeit his deep-worn channel doth immure
Objects immense portrayed in miniature,
Wild shapes for many a strange comparison!...

Hail to the fields, with Dwellings sprinkled o'er,
And one small hamlet, under a green hill
Clustering, with barn and byre, and spouting mill!
A glance suffices, should we wish for more,...

No fiction was it of the antique age:
A sky-blue stone, within this sunless cleft,
Is of the very footmarks unbereft
Which tiny Elves impressed; on that smooth stage
Dancing with all their brilliant equipage...

O Mountain Stream! the Shepherd and his Cot
Are privileged Inmates of deep solitude;
Nor would the nicest Anchorite exclude
A field or two of brighter green, or plot...

The struggling Rill insensibly is grown
Into a Brook of loud and stately march,
Crossed ever and anon by plank or arch;
And, for like use, lo! what might seem a zone...

My frame hath often trembled with delight
When hope presented some far-distant good,
That seemed from heaven descending, like the flood
Of yon pure waters, from their aery height...