As a man aches for his evening meal when all day long his brace of wine-dark oxen have dragged the bolted plowshare down a fallow field—how welcome the setting sun to him, the going home to supper, yes, though his knees buckle, struggling home at last. – Homer
As a man aches for his evening meal when all day long his brace of wine-dark oxen have dragged the bolted plowshare down a fallow field—how welcome the setting sun to him, the going home to supper, yes, though his knees buckle, struggling home at last. – Homer
A whole world of brilliant similes.
"Give me a spear, and I’ll fend off this woe
and pierce the glorious shield through even Death—"
Oh I love that image. Beautiful foreshadowing.