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Nor be the captive of forgetfulness,
So soon as thou shalt wake from honeyed sleep."

He spake: and parting left him there, to muse

In secret on the thing that might not be.
For in that day he thought to scale Priam's

walls,

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And knew not, simple one, the wiles of Zeus; How he would bring more woes, more groanings

yet,

On Trojan and on Greek in hard-fought fields.
He woke: and sate erect the heavenly voice
Still floating o'er him: donned his tunic soft 45
And fair and new: flung o'er him his great robe,
Harnessed fair sandals to his shining feet,

And o'er his shoulder swung his silver-studded

sword.

And took his fathers' sceptre in his hand,
Imperishable aye: and sought therewith
The vessels of the brazen-coated Greeks.

At broad Olympus' gate stood sacred Dawn,

To Zeus and all the gods proclaiming light.

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Then the king bade his shrill-tongued heralds go And summon council-ward the unshorn Greeks; 55 Who came all swiftly at their heralding.

But first a council of high elders sat At Nestor's ship, the Pylos-nurtured king. Thither he called them: there framed shrewd advice.

"Hear, friends! In holy night a heaven-sent

Dream

60

Came near me while I slept: in face, and form,
And bulk, it seemed great Nestor's counterpart.
Above my head it stood, and spake to me.
'Sleep'st thou, O son of Atreus? son of one
At heart a warrior, tamer of the steed?
Not all night long a counsellor should sleep,
A people's guard, whose cares are manifold.
Now hear me. Zeus's messenger am I;

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Who, though far off, yet cares, yet grieves for

thee.

He bids thee arm in haste thy unshorn Greeks; 70 Saying, Now is Ilion and her broad streets thine. For lo! no longer are the immortals-they

Whose home is heaven-divided. Here's prayer

Hath bent them all; and woes are nigh to Troy, Woes which Zeus sends. This ponder in thy

mind.'

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So spake the Dream; and spread his wings, and fled. And sweet sleep gat from me. But up and look How we may arm for war Achaia's sons.

And first I will prove them, as is meet, with

words,

And bid them deck for flight their oarèd ships. 80 Ye, wending separate ways, forbid their flight."

He spake, and sate him down. Then Nestor

rose,

That Nestor who in sandy Pylos reigned.

Who friendly-minded rose and spake in the midst.

"Friends! lords and captains of the Argive

hosts!

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Now had another Greek this vision told, We had said, 'Thou liest; and put us far from him.

But lo! he saw it, of Achaians all
Who vaunts him noblest. Nay then, up and look

How we may arm for war Achaia's sons."

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He spake; and slowly from the council moved. They rose, and followed in their leaders' wake, Those sceptred kings; the host flocked after them. As when from some rock's hollow, swarm on swarm, Rise multitudes of thickly-thronging bees: And hang in clusters o'er the flowers of spring, And fly in myriads, this way some, some that; They in such multitudes from tent and ship, Skirting the bottomless sea-sand, marched in troops To council. With them sped a voice of fire 100 Bidding them on: Zeus sent it: and they met. Unquietly they met: earth groaned beneath The trampling of the hosts as they sate down: And there was tumult. Then did heralds nine Shout out, entreating them to stay their strife, 105 And listen to the kings, the sons of heaven.

In haste they sate down, halting each in his place,

And stilled their noise. Then Agamemnon rose,

Bearing that sceptre which Hephæstus wrought,
And gave unto Croníon, royal Zeus.

Zeus to the courier-god, the Argus-slayer:
Hermes to Pelops, lasher of the steed:
Pelops to Atreus, shepherd of the host:
And Atreus to Thyestes rich in lambs
Dying bequeathed it. And Thyestes last
Gave it to Agamemnon's arm to wield,
And be the lord of Argos and the isles.
Leaning whereon he spake before the host.

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"Friends, sons of Ares, mighty men of Greece! Me hath Zeus bound to heaviness and woe. 120 Once (reckless one!) he swore, and bowed his head,

That I should raze Troy's walls and get me home.
But mischief doth he plot against me now:
Sends me to Argos, shamed; for I have slain
Much people. Thus then fare the favourites 125
Of Zeus the all-mighty: who hath bent the crests
Of many cities; yea, and who shall bend
The crests of many more; for strong is he.
Our sons shall one day hear it, and cry 'Shame!

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