The Iliad

The execution of this version of the Iliad has been entrusted to the three Translators in the following three parts:
Books I.—IX. . . . . W. LEAF. Books X.—XVI. . . . . A. LANG. Books XVII.—XXIV. . . . . E. MYERS.
Each Translator is therefore responsible for his own portion; but the whole has been revised by all three Translators, and the rendering of passages or phrases recurring in more than one portion has been determined after deliberation in common. Even in these, however, a certain elasticity has been deemed desirable.
On a few doubtful points, though very rarely, the opinion of two of the translators has had to be adopted to the suppression of that held by the third. Thus, for instance, the Translator of Books X.—XVI. Would have preferred “c” and “us” to “k” and “os” in the spelling of all proper names.
The Translator of Books X.—XVI. has to thank Mr. R.W. RAPER, Fellow of Trinity College, Oxford, for his valuable aid in revising the proof-sheets of these Books.
In the present Edition the translation has been carefully revised throughout, and numerous minor corrections have been made. The Notes at the end of the volume have been, with a few exceptions, omitted; one of the Translators hopes to publish very shortly a Companion to the Iliad for English readers, which will deal fully with most of the points therein referred to.
The use of square brackets has in this edition been restricted to passages where there is external evidence, such as absence from the best MSS., for believing in interpolation. One or two departures from this rule are noticed in footnotes.
November 1891
The sacred soil of Ilios is rent With shaft and pit; foiled waters wander slow Through plains where Simois and Scamander went To war with gods and heroes long ago. Not yet to dark Cassandra lying low In rich Mycenae do the Fates relent; The bones of Agamemnon are a show, And ruined is his royal monument. The dust and awful treasures of the dead Hath learning scattered wide; but vainly thee, Homer, she meteth with her Lesbian lead, And strives to rend thy songs, too blind is she To know the crown on thine immortal head Of indivisible supremacy. A.L.