[Iliad, B. XVII. V. 426] <br /> <br />So now the horses of Aiakides, off wide of the war-ground, <br />Wept, since first they were ware of their charioteer overthrown there, <br />Cast down low in the whirl of the dust under man-slaying Hector. <br />Sooth, meanwhile, then did Automedon, brave son of Diores, <br />Oft, on the one hand, urge them with flicks of the swift whip, and oft, too, <br />Coax entreatingly, hurriedly; whiles did he angrily threaten. <br />Vainly, for these would not to the ships, to the Hellespont spacious, <br />Backward turn, nor be whipped to the battle among the Achaians. <br />Nay, as a pillar remains immovable, fixed on the tombstone, <br />Haply, of some dead man or it may be a woman there-under; <br />Even like hard stood they there attached to the glorious war-car, <br />Earthward bowed with their heads; and of them so lamenting incessant <br />Ran the hot teardrops downward on to the earth from their eyelids, <br />Mourning their charioteer; all their lustrous manes dusty-clotted, <br />Right side and left of the yoke-ring tossed, to the breadth of the yoke-bow. <br />Now when the issue of Kronos beheld that sorrow, his head shook <br />Pitying them for their grief, these words then he spake in his bosom; <br />'Why, ye hapless, gave we to Peleus you, to a mortal <br />Master; ye that are ageless both, ye both of you deathless! <br />Was it that ye among men most wretched should come to have heart-grief? <br />'Tis most true, than the race of these men is there wretcheder nowhere <br />Aught over earth's range found that is gifted with breath and has movement.'<br /><br />George Meredith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-horses-of-achilles/
