He strode along the field, as thus he said: (The sable plumage nodded o’er his head:) Swift through the spacious plain he sent a look; One instant saw, one instant overtook The distant band, that on the sandy shore The radiant spoils to sacred Ilion bore. There his own mail unbraced the field bestrow’d; His train to Troy convey’d the massy load. Now blazing in the immortal arms he stands; The work and present of celestial hands; By aged Peleus to Achilles given, As first to Peleus by the court of heaven: His father’s arms not long Achilles wears, Forbid by fate to reach his father’s years.