hedonists

Item No. comdagen-6602032538168794330
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a tear.  It was beautiful to see him. By and by he got it.  He told us to give attention.  Then he strikes a most noble attitude, with one leg shoved forwards, and his arms stretched away up, and his head tilted back, looking up at the sky; and then he begins to rip and rave and grit his teeth; and after that, all through his speech, he howled, and spread around, and swelled up his chest, and just knocked the spots out of any acting ever I see before.  This is the speech--I learned it, easy eno

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can avert) When by the spear, the arrow, or the dart, By night, or day, by force, or by design, Impending death and certain fate are mine! Die then,"--He said; and as the word he spoke, The fainting stripling sank before the stroke: His hand forgot its grasp, and left the spear, While all his trembling frame confess'd his fear: Sudden, Achilles his broad sword display'd, And buried in his neck the reeking blade. Prone fell the youth; and panting on the land, The gushing purple dyed the thirsty sand. The victor to the stream the carcase gave, And thus insults him, floating on the wave: "Lie there, Lycaon! let the fish surround Thy bloated corpse, and suck thy gory wound: There no sad mother shall thy funerals weep, But swift Scamander roll thee to the deep, Whose every wave some watery monster brings, To feast unpunish'd on the fat of kings. So perish Troy, and all the Trojan line! Such ruin theirs, and such compassion mine. What boots ye now Scamander's worshipp'd stream, His earthly honours, and immortal name? In vain your immolated bulls are slain, Your living coursers glut his gulfs in vain! Thus he rewards you, with this bitter fate; Thus, till the Grecian vengeance is complete: Thus is atoned Patroclus' honour'd shade, And the short absence of Achilles paid." These boastful words provoked the raging god; With fury swells the violated flood. What means divine may yet the power employ To check Achilles, and to rescue Troy? Meanwhile the hero springs in arms, to dare The great Asteropeus to mortal war; The son of Pelagon, whose lofty line Flows from the source of Axius, stream divine! (Fair Peribaea's love the god had crown'd, With all his refluent waters circled round:) On him Achilles rush'd; he fearless stood, And shook two spears, advancing from the flood; The flood impell'd him, on Pelides' head To avenge his waters choked with heaps of dead. Near as they drew, Achilles