The Iliad by Homer

The youthful warrior heard with silent woe,
From his fair eyes the tears began to flow:
Big with the mighty grief, he strove to say
What sorrow dictates, but no word found way.
To brave Laodocus his arms he flung,
Who, near him wheeling, drove his steeds along;
Then ran the mournful message to impart,
With tearful eyes, and with dejected heart.

Swift fled the youth: nor Menelaus stands
(Though sore distress’d) to aid the Pylian bands;
But bids bold Thrasymede those troops sustain;
Himself returns to his Patroclus slain.
“Gone is Antilochus (the hero said);
But hope not, warriors, for Achilles’ aid:
Though fierce his rage, unbounded be his woe,
Unarm’d, he fights not with the Trojan foe.