Then Hector from the war a little space
Withdrew, and clad him in Achilles' gear,
And braced the gleaming helmet on his face,
And donn'd the corslet, and that mighty spear
He grasped--the lance that makes the boldest fear;
And home his comrades bare his arms of gold,
Those Priam once had worn, his father dear,
But in his father's arms he waxed not old!
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