But mindful of the gods, Achilles went To the rich coffer in his shady tent; There lay on heaps his various garments roll’d, And costly furs, and carpets stiff with gold, (The presents of the silver-footed dame) From thence he took a bowl, of antique frame, Which never man had stained with ruddy wine, Nor raised in offerings to the power divine, But Peleus’ son; and Peleus’ son to none Had raised in offerings, but to Jove alone. This tinged with sulphur, sacred first to flame, He purged; and wash’d it in the running stream. Then cleansed his hands; and fixing for a space His eyes on heaven, his feet upon the place Of sacrifice, the purple draught he pour’d Forth in the midst; and thus the god implored: