But when Achilles saw the soaring flame,
And knew the ships in peril, suddenly
A change upon his wrathful spirit came,
Nor will'd he that the Danaans should die:
But call'd his Myrmidons, and with a cry
They follow'd where, like foam on a sea-wave
Patroclus' crest was dancing, white and high,
Above the tide that back the Trojans drave.
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