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Feigned Courage

Horatio, of ideal courage vain,
Was flourishing in air his father's cane,
And, as the fumes of valour swelled his pate,
Now thought himself this hero, and now that:
'And now,' he cried, 'I will Achilles be;
My sword I brandish; see, the Trojans flee.
Now I'll be Hector, when his angry blade
A lane through heaps of slaughtered Grecians made!
And now by deeds still braver I'll evince
I am no less than Edward the Black Prince.-
Give way, ye coward French-' As thus he spoke,
And aimed in fancy a sufficient stroke
To fix the fate of Cressy or Poictiers
(The Muse relates the hero's fate with tears);
He struck his milk-white hand against a nail,
Sees his own blood, and feels his courage fail.
Ah! where is now that boasted valour flown,
That in the tented field so late was shown!
Achilles weeps, Great Hector hangs the head,
And the Black Prince goes whimpering to bed.

poem by Charles Lamb
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Achilles And The Slaying Of Hector

Achilles took the slain body of proud Prince Hector
slit holes through warrior corpse ankles and proceeded
to drag Hector’s defeated slain body behind his chariot
an ignoble act of revenge bitterness hate anger contempt

Achilles killed proud Hector with a single spear thrust
Achilles refused to eat mourns on Olympian ambrosia
Achilles killed Hector with a spear thrust into the neck
proud noble neck the only vulnerable on Hector’s body

Hector who wore the god made prize armour of Achilles
armour stripped from slain Patroclus beloved of Achilles
in grief how anger festered into revenge rage in Achilles
Hector victim of vengeance dies a slow agonizing death

Hector accepted his fate begged Achilles treat his body
with respect once slain but hubris was wrath of Achilles
shamelessly Achilles desecrates the Trojan heroes body
for nine days dragging slain corpse around the battlefield

for nine days denying King Priam funeral rites for his son
Achilles enraged cared nothing for feelings of Hector’s family
shamed humiliated is corpse of Hector dragged behind chariot
Achilles what great rage passions storm in soul possessed

Achilles who addressed Hector like an entreating dog
stated as he killed him it was hopeless to expect respect
for his slain defeated corpse declared 'my rage, my fury
would drive me now to hack your flesh away and eat

you raw — such agonies you have caused me' “For what
you've done. No one can keep the dogs off of your head,
not if they brought me ransom of ten or twenty times as much,
or more' then Achilles slices Hector's head hanging only

by skin thus fell Trojan prince Hector to pride arrogance
Achilles of scorn wrath slayer of Hector son of King Priam
Hector with wife child who fought to defend his city family
even Zeus was dismayed by hubris abuse to Hector's body

at the command of Zeus Hermes led King Priam in a wagon
out of Troy across the plains into the Greek camp unnoticed
to Achilles' tent to plead with Achilles for a slain son's body
to permit a father to perform his funeral rites for son Hector

Priam grasped Achilles by the knees and begged this feared
killer of so many of his sons to worthy ransom his son's body
Priam begged by the gods kissed the hand of Achilles killer
of his sons stirred Achilles' grief to tears to claim corpse son

only then after nine days of bitter agony did Priam at Achilles
feet begging reclaim Hector's body to take back into city Troy
only then could funeral rites be preformed only then could the
desecrated corpse of Hector be buried as Troy the city mourns

poem by Terence George Craddock
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Fall of Troy

Learnt from Chapman's Homer*
A story full of grace and glamour
Killings of Royals, warriors and multitude
Fall of Troy is
A melodrama of ancient attitude
Sans Merci, sans certitude

War that was waged in heaven
Amongst deities of love wedding and wisdom**
To be crowned as fairest of heavenly kingdom,
Poor Prince from Trojan race
Chose to settle that celestial FACE
Ah! This sin of Paris was un-forgiven
***Brought thousands ships towards Trojan haven.

The wall of Troy
Besieged by savage and sages
For term of ten years ages
Prince Hector the decent, daredevil
Embraced Achilles` wrath and kissed the peril.

Days and nights, round the clock
Trojans, Achaeans clashed like a giant rocks
Hector, Aeneas, Paris, Agenor and Sarpedon****
Achilles, Odysseus, Ajax, Patroclus and Agamemnon*****
For worthless love and fairy******
Troy lost her grace and glory

poem by Gulsher john
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Hector

He strode across the schoolroom in July,
Great Hector, clanging in his brazen mail;
And all the cringing Greeks, with faces pale,
Creaked into jabbering Ks and turned to fly.
Achilles, safe because he could not die,
Cheated and won; and all the lines grew stale.
The life was gone from out the shabby tale;
And back in Homer's teeth we flung the lie.

We fought for Troy behind a mossy wall;
We burned the Grecian ships below a tree . . .
Ah, that great war was forty years ago !
Yet still I know that Hector did not fall;
For when the bell rang truce to friend and foe,
Achilles, lying Greek, was under me!

poem by David McKee Wright
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Part of the Dialogue Between Hector and Andromache

She ceas'd; then godlike Hector answer'd kind -
(His various plumage sporting in the wind)
'That post and all the rest shall be my care;
But shall I then forsake the unfinish'd war?
How would the Trojans brand great Hector's name!
And one base action sully all my fame,
Acquired by wounds, and battles bravely fought!
Oh! how my soul abhors so mean a thought.
Long have I learnt to slight this feeble breath,
And view with cheerful eyes approaching death.
The inexorable sisters have decreed
That Priam's house and Priam's self shall bleed:
The day shall come, in which proud Troy shall yield,
And spread its smoking ruins o'er the field.
Yet Hecuba's, nor Priam's hoary age,
Whose blood shall quench some Grecian's thirsty rage;
Their souls dismiss'd through many a ghastly wound,
Can in my bosom half that grief create,
As the sad thought of your impending fate:
When some proud Grecian dame shall tasks impose,
Mimic your years, and ridicule your woes:
Beneath Hyperia's waters shall you sweat,
And, fainting, scarce support the liquid weight:
Then shall some Argive loud insulting cry,
'Behold the wife of Hector, guard of Troy!'
Tears, at my name, shall drown those beauteous eyes,
And that fair bosom heave with rising sighs!
Before that day, by some brave hero's hand,
May I lie slain, and spurn the bloody sand!'

poem by Samuel Johnson
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Hero?

Hail great hero!
Hero brave!
We praise you hero!
I your slave
Now duly fall
On giving knee
In hero worship
Unto thee!

Now did you hero save our globe
When draped in classic hero’s robe?
And did it flow as reddened blood
As battles raged in fields of mud?

Oh hero tell me of your fame:
Were writhing serpents fair your game?
Did you pierce the dragon’s heart
Intrepid hero; play the part

When Tyrant slain in hero’s fight
On quaking ground thro’ battle’s might?
And did you hero conquer evil -
Waste the minions of the devil?

Oh valiant hero, does your armour
Gleam from ventures steeped in valour?
Your sword oh hero, sparks a glint
From charging steel to give the hint

Of what great chapters Hero's Tome
Might tell to us when heroes roam
Through lands of yore when goblins vile
Sought a chance to kill for bile.

Oh hail thy hero,
Hero tall!
Bless you hero,
As I fall
In blushing shame,
I speak to me…

This mirror aids to fantasise
That I be hero worldly wise,
But meek and mild is all I am:
Hero naught; unbridled scam.

Hero hero hero hero
Hero hero hero hero
Hero hero hero hero

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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At last is Hector stretch'd upon the plain,
Who fear'd no vengeance for Patroclus slain
You should have fear'd, what now you feel
Achilles absent was Achilles still
Yet a short space the great avenger stayed,
Then low in dust thy strength and glory laid.

Homer in The Iliad
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Achilles Had A Little Heel After Mary Had A Little Lamb

Achilles had a little heel,
its skin was white as snow;
and everywhere Achilles went
its twin was sure to go.

His mother dipped him in the Styx
held by that little heel
henceforth Achillles bones soon picks -
scarce kept an even keel.

Greeks followed him to war one day;
quite playing by his rules;
he made the Trojans weep and pray,
to see selves seem such fools.

Of yore before fair Carthage shore
was met by Myrmidons
he tore Telephus, left wound sore -
or so say Oxford dons.

His troops were ordered to withdraw
withal though Troy destroyers
were winning war till Nestor saw
some sought Appollo's lawyers.

They sat in Council, Calchas claimed
his child from Agamemnon,
Chryseis kidnapped but King [t]aimed
Briseis, Achilles' leman.

Achilles' anger far and wide
was famed - a fatal flaw -
eternal legends since abide
of home_ru[i]ns galore.

It's G[r]eek to me how he could fling
his wrath from coast to coast,
fair Amazons his arms could bring
to grief, reefed Hades' host.

Patroculus his armour wore
successfully in song,
till Hector tore him to cold slaw,
Haephestus' trappings done.

One day an arrow turned him out,
transfixing sole so near,
soul lingered restlessly about
till Pluto did appear.

'Why'd Thetis love Achilles so? '
schoolchildren eager cry;
'Why, mothers love their lambs, you know, '
trained teachers must reply!

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Battle of Cressy

'Twas on the 26th of August, the sun was burning hot,
In the year of 1346, which will never be forgot,
Because the famous field of Cressy was slippery and gory,
By the loss of innocent blood which I'11 relate in story.

To the field of Cressy boldly King Philip did advance,
Aided by the Bohemian Army and chosen men of France,
And treble the strength of the English Army that day,
But the lance thrusts of the English soon made them give way.

The English Army was under the command of the Prince of Wales,
And with ringing cheers the soldiers his presence gladly hails,
As King Edward spoke to the Prince, his son, and said,
My son put thou thy trust in God and be not afraid,
And he will protect thee in the midst of the fight,
And remember God always defends the right.

Then the Prince knelt on one knee before the King,
Whilst the soldiers gathered round them in a ring;
Then the King commanded that the Prince should be carefully guarded,
And if they were victorious each man would be rewarded.

These arrangements being made, the Prince rode away,
And as he rode past the ranks, his spirits felt gay;
Then he ordered the men to refresh themselves without delay,
And prepare to meet the enemy in the coming deadly fray.

Then contentedly the men seated themselves upon the grass,
And ate and drank to their hearts content, until an hour did pass;
Meanwhile the French troops did advance in disorganised masses,
But as soon as the English saw them they threw aside their glasses.

And they rose and stood in the ranks as solid as the rock,
All ready and eager to receive the enemy's shock;
And as the morning was advancing a little beyond noon,
They all felt anxious for the fight, likewise to know their doom.

Then the French considered they were unable to begin the attack,
And seemed rather inclined for to draw back;
But Court D'Alencon ordered them on to the attack,
Then the rain poured down in torrents and the thunder did crack.

Then forward marched the French with mock shrill cries,
But the English their cries most bravely defies;
And as the sun shone out in all its brilliant array,
The English let fly their arrows at them without the least dismay.

And each man fought hard with sword and lance pell mell,
And the ranks were instantly filled up as soon as a man fell;
And the Count D'Alencon, boldly charged the Black Prince.
And he cried, yield you, Sir Knight, or I'll make you wince,

Ha, by St. George! thou knowest not what thou sayest,
Therefore yield thyself, Sir Frenchman, for like an ass thou brayest;
Then planting his lance he ran at the Count without fear,
And the Count fell beneath the Black Prince's spear.

And the Black Prince and his men fought right manfully,
By this time against some forty thousand of the enemy,
Until the Prince recognised the banner of Bohemia floating in the air;
Then he cried that banner shall be mine, by St. George I do swear.

On! on! for old England, he cried, on! gentlemen on!
And spur your chargers quickly, and after them begone;
Then the foremost, a slight youth, to the Prince did reply,
My Prince, I'll capture that banner for you else I will die.

Ha! cried the Prince, is it thou my gallant Jack of Kent,
Now charge with me my brave lad for thou has been sent
By God, to aid me in the midst of the fight,
So forward, and wield your cudgel with all your might.

Then right into the midst of the Bohemian Knights they fought their way,
Brave Jack o' the Cudgel and the Prince without dismay;
And Jack rushed at the Standard Bearer without any dread,
And struck him a blow with his cudgel which killed him dead.

Then Jack bore off the Standard, to the Prince's delight,
Then the French and the Bohemians instantly took to flight;
And as the last rays of the sun had faded in the west,
The wounded and dying on both sides longed for rest.

And Philip, King of France, was wounded twice in the fray,
And was forced to fly from the field in great dismay;
And John of Hainault cried, come sire, come away,
I hope you will live to win some other day.

Then King Edward and his army, and the Prince his son,
Knelt down and thanked God for the victory won;
And the King's heart was filled with great delight,
And he thanked Jack for capturing the Bohemian Standard during the fight.

poem by William Topaz McGonagall
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Just One More Dead Hero

So much about his courage we have heard of and read
So sad about the brave man so sad to hear he's dead
A decorated soldier from a war far away
The Reaper claimed the life from him suppose he had his day
One the nationalists and patriots used to celebrate
But with the coward and the traitor he shared a common fate
Not one to respect money or bravery or fame
To the Reaper the life of the coward and the hero are equal and the same
Though memories of the man he was will take some time to fade
Next year he won't be around to march in the war veterans parade
Ninety two when he died his best days long gone
Just one more dead hero and life does go on
The coward and the hero and those of wealth and fame
Are made equal by the Reaper he treats them as the same.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Andromache

Andromache, widow of lucent Hector sleeps
in front of the hearth while silence
descends the night invading from east,
in her epigrammatic kindness and guidance.

Mournful oblates to the call of Stygian ripples
(cause meritorious Hector was in duel killed,
together with her kin by invincible Achilles) ,
now a concubine of Neoptolemus, her fate unfulfilled.

From the son of Achilles, she begot a son,
who was destined to rule upon a strong race
Molossus clan reigned over Northwest land,
where Putonian Hades kingdoms base.

Andromache sleeps and remembers her son,
(Heroic Neoptolemus went to Hades forever)
while Helenos of Troy, her pained heart won,
to rule in Epirus and from her never to sever.

Andromache, widow of noble Neoptolemus sleeps
in front of the hearth while silence
descends the night invading from east,
in her epigrammatic kindness and guidance.

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Achilles at Troy

The walls of the enemy city believed by them
to be made by the gods,
rise up in front of us
stripped, empty like hills,
looking impregnable
and higher up I see some archers
with their armour shining in the midday heat
rising bows and shooting arrows into the sky
believing, wishing and praying to hit one of us.

I drive with my chariot far out of their reach,
around and around the city, as if inspecting it
for any frailty, a place to penetrate with force
searching for Hector
while fierce fighting is going on

and anger, great rage roars within my heart
when at the main gate I stop and wait,
before roaring at the top of my voice
for Hector to come out, to face me.

My black steel shield, my black steel armour
my great spear, my bow and sword
are at the ready and I am implacable
watching, willing for the main gate to open

and see a lizard basking in the sun on a nearby rock,
as it probably has done since being born,
my heart is torn by the death
of my familiar one,
Patroclus my companion and friend
and in pain I roar again

calling Hector a coward and a fool
and my small army
of brave Myrmidons gather around me
heading of the enemy, killing scores of them

banging their swords on their shields
every time I call the name out
of the Champion of Troy
and like me they are ready to destroy.

Again I give reigns to the horses
driving at speed with my chariot
around the city inspecting
the fighting men more carefully

and nowhere I can see Hector,
nowhere I find him destroying our own
and on the third time
I spot him taking on three men
and killing them

and at speed jump from the chariot
with spear, sword and shield
and like a thunder falling from the sky
I land solidly right next to him

and he wards of my first, my second blow
even stopping my great spear
thrown with all my might,
but in the frenzy of it all
I see an opening made by his shield
and dropping my shield
with both hands directly
drive my sword in, in a stabbing blow
and catch him in the throat
leaping back picking up my shield and spear
and stab, stab from behind the shield
killing Hector with fierce blows

and I gather my great sword
drawing it from him
and tie him behind my chariot
before fully armed
I jump into it
and drive away
dragging the Champion of Troy
around and around the great
impregnable city while roaring
loud as thunder
with a blood bedecked spear above my head.

poem by Gert Strydom
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In Courage

In courage-you find
no fear
and in courage-no weakness
does appear
In courage-steps toward
danger taken
and in courage-strength
within awaken
In courage- a hero
takes shape
and in courage- the villain
can't escape
In courage-there is a call
to duty
and in courage-out of ugliness
comes beauty

poem by Dorsey Baker
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The Lliad- in 50 words or less

Paris stole Agamemmon's woman.
Hector Killed Patroclus in a fight.
Achilles took revenge against the Trojan,
but otherwise sat sulking in his tent.
Odysseus, the ever resourceful Greek,
built a wooden horse.
Final score: Greeks 1, Trojans 0
Beware of Greeks bearing gifts!

poem by John F. McCullagh
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A Hero?

Her hero is pretty and thin
Her hero is a hero to many
A hero of fame and a hero of fortune
A role model, a hero of glamour
Her hero is a hero to many

His hero is fit and fast
His hero is a hero to many
A hero of sport, a hero of games
A role model, a hero of victory
His hero is a hero to many

Her hero is clever yet plane
Her hero is a hero to few
A hero of science, a hero of logic
A role model, a hero of knowledge
Her hero is a hero to few

His hero is a hero of art but he is poor
His hero is a hero to few
A hero of word a hero of writings
A role model, a hero of language
His hero is a hero to few

But that’s the thing with your heros....
Hero worship is only skin deep.

poem by Timothy Venard
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Echoes of Heroes

Placing Hero’s modern socket to my ear,
I see the reverberating valor
I hear the truth through his own teeth
It was then Hero your head rind whispered;
“Where was my white ones? ”
I knew the answer…smugly I reply;
“Hero, it is where your black once was.”
You then Hero, Understood.
As I pull from the topless jaw a few spare. Ruby carved an ‘X’ on your skull Hero
She dropped it / then we both walked the (he) ck away.

poem by David Allen Adams
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The So Called Coward And The Traitor

A traitor to his Country many of him do say
He never enlisted to fight in the war far away
But he marches in every anti war parade
Some say cowards are born they cannot be made.

But some have strange ways of defining a coward
By his higher self the man has been empowered
His dad died in war a hero but the son to war said no
In making a stand courage he has to show.

In not going to war he did not rob a young wife
Of the father of her children and the love of her life
And robbed a mother of her beloved son
Many call him a coward and a traitor yet he's not harmed anyone.

The so called coward and the traitor goes out of his way
To help the poor old lady frail, vulnerable and gray
Helps her out when she needs him and never asks her for pay
The young man is my hero of him she does say.

The last post will never be played at his grave
But the so called coward and the traitor in truth is quite brave
He did not go to war distant from his Homeland
And for what he believes in he does make a stand.

poem by Francis Duggan
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I think they went with the idea that people know the story pretty much- knowing that he's going to take her when she's going to go with him. Also, the movie is really focused on Achilles and Hector and their battles.

quote by Diane Kruger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blade of fate

The blade of fate lay over my neck forceful and blatant

Cold But withered like a willow tree whistling like a raven

Black and sharpened with the thorn of my heart pierced through my body

Thee knows my quarrels and thee knows my pain that indeed I am hearty

For the fate

of the blade

that lay Hovering over me bares my ever growing load of her rose that is heavy laden.

Oh the blade of fate has wearied me upon the the deathly road I take for nothingness is where I'll lay in.

A field of my fate is where I lay and where I hear the call of the raven.

poem by Daegonius Bonapartea
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To Captain H------D, Of The 65th Regiment

SAY, muse divine, can hostile scenes delight
The warrior's bosom in the fields of fight?
Lo! here the christian and the hero join
With mutual grace to form the man divine.
In H-----D see with pleasure and surprise,
Where valour kindles, and where virtue lies:
Go, hero brave, still grace the post of fame,
And add new glories to thine honour'd name,
Still to the field, and still to virtue true:
Britannia glories in no son like you.

poem by Phillis Wheatley
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Coffee Courage

The bitter coffee kicked;
I shook and then I licked
My lips and gave a sigh.

Shattered eyes encouraged,
I nearly had envisaged
Waking up an eye.

Another sip; a jolt –
Not unlike a bolt
Of wattage from the mains.

My sockets under strain,
I tried it once again:
Aha! The light, the searing white –
My God, the bloody pain!

Courage, courage, coffee courage,
Courage, courage, courage,
Courage, courage, coffee courage,
Courage, courage, courage,