'Bibber besotted, with scowl of a cur, having heart of a deer, thou! <br />Never to join to thy warriors armed for the press of the conflict, <br />Never for ambush forth with the princeliest sons of Achaia <br />Dared thy soul, for to thee that thing would have looked as a death-stroke. <br />Sooth, more easy it seems, down the lengthened array of Achaians, <br />Snatch at the prize of the one whose voice has been lifted against thee. <br />Ravening king of the folk, for that thou hast thy rule over abjects; <br />Else, son of Atreus, now were this outrage on me thy last one. <br />Nay, but I tell thee, and I do swear a big oath on it likewise: <br />Yea, by the sceptre here, and it surely bears branches and leaf-buds <br />Never again, since first it was lopped from its trunk on the mountains, <br />No more sprouting; for round it all clean has the sharp metal clipped off <br />Leaves and the bark; ay, verify now do the sons of Achaia, <br />Guardian hands of the counsels of Zeus, pronouncing the judgement, <br />Hold it aloft; so now unto thee shall the oath have its portent; <br />Loud will the cry for Achilles burst from the sons of Achaia <br />Throughout the army, and thou chafe powerless, though in an anguish, <br />How to give succour when vast crops down under man-slaying Hector <br />Tumble expiring; and thou deep in thee shalt tear at thy heart-strings, <br />Rage-wrung, thou, that in nought thou didst honour the flower of Achaians.'<br /><br />George Meredith<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-invective-of-achilles-v-225/
