My life is more to me than all the wealth of Ilius
Even his griefs are a joy long after to one that remembers all that he wrought and endured.
Beauty! Terrible Beauty! A deathless Goddess-- so she strikes our eyes!
And overpowered by memory Both men gave way to grief. Priam wept freely For man - killing Hector, throbbing, crouching Before Achilles' feet as Achilles wept himself, Now for his father, now for Patroclus once again And their sobbing rose and fell throughout the house.
A small rock holds back a great wave.
A glorious death is his, who for his country falls.