Like huddled sheep cowed obstinate, as dull

As oxen impotent the wain to pull

Out of a rut, which, failing at first lunge,

Answer not voice nor goad, but sideways plunge

Or backward urge with lowered heads, or stand

Dumb monuments of sufferance—so unmanned

The Achaians brooded, nor their chiefs had care

To drive them forth, since they too knew despair,

And neither saw in battle nor retreat

A way of honour.

And the plain grew sweet

Again with living green; the spring o' the year

[16]

Came in with flush of flower and bird-call clear;

And Nature, for whom nothing wrought is vain,

Out of shed blood caused grass to spring amain,

And seemed with tender irony to flout

Man's folly and pain when twixt dead spears sprang out

The crocus-point and pied the plain with fires

More gracious than his beacons; and from pyres

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