The Iliad of Homer
Translated into English Blank Verse
by James Morrice
London 1809
[Selection from the Opening of the Poem]
Book I.
SING, Muse, the fatal wrath of
Peleus’ son,
Which to the Greeks unnumb’red evils brought,
And many heroes to the realms of night
Sent premature; and gave their limbs a aprey
To dogs and birds: for such the will of Jove.
When fierce contention rose between the chiefs,
Achilles, and Atrides, king of men.
Say first who caus’d this most perenicious feud.—
Latona’s son; who, with the king enrag’d,
Sent pestilential sickness through the host,
Avenging the dishonour of his priest
Chryses, a suppliant at the Grecian fleet,
With ransom large his daughter to release:
The sceptre of Apollo in his hand
He bore; and to the Greeks address’d his pray’r;
To Atreus’ sons, chief captains of the host.
“Ye sons of Atreus, and ye Grecian chiefs,
“May the gods favour your victorious arms,
“And grant you safe return! Yet hear my pray’r:
“Restore my daughter, and her ransom take;
“And reverence Apollo, sprung from Jove.”
The Greeks with one consent their wish declar’d
The priest to honour and accept the gifts:
Not such the mind of Atreus’ warlike son,
Who with reproach dismiss’d, and threat severe.
“Let me not find thee loitering at our ships;
“Nor shall thy age, shouldst thou return again,
“Nor sceptre of they god, protect thee here;
“I will not let her go, till worn with age,
“In Argos, in our house, she ply the loom,
“The partner of my bed: hence then, begone,
“Nor wake my anger, wouldst thou safe depart.”
He spake; when Chryses trembled, and obey’d:
Silent, he hast’ned to the boisterous shore,
And thus to Phœbus, from Latona sprung
Bright-hair’d, preferr’d his pray’r: “Thy servant
hear,
“God of the silver bow; whom Cylla fair
“And Tenedos obey: if, with pure hands,
“To thee I’ve paid the grateful sacrifice;
“And with just rites thy sacred altars crown’d,
“Hear me, O hear! soon may the Grecian host
“Deeply regret my unavailing tears!”
Thus Chryses; and Apollo heard his plaint,
And swift descended from Olympus’ height;
His bow and arrows rattled at his side:
Downward he bent his way; as night he mov’d
Baneful, and sent his fatal arrows forth:
Dire was the clangor of the silver bow.
First the contagion, to inferior beasts
Confin’d, the dogs and mules alone destroy’d;
Then men a prey to his relentless ire
Fell; and incessant burnt the funeral pile.
REVIEW COMMENT
Morrice provides a very gracious and modest Preface, offering no comments on why he has chosen his particular style. His translation is direct, fast, and very clear, qualities that many other nineteenth century translations lack. One can still trace some of the less welcome effects of Milton’s style here and there.
For a contemporary review (1805) of Morrice’s Iliad, use the following link: Morrice Iliad Review
Link to Volume 1 the complete text: Morrice Iliad.