Homeric simile

Homeric simile, also called an epic simile, is a detailed comparison in the form of a simile that are many lines in length. Epic similes Ancient So Hector spake; and Trojans roar’d applause;Then loosed their sweating horses from the yoke,And each beside his chariot bound his own;And oxen from the city, and goodly sheepIn haste they drove, and honey-hearted wineAnd bread from out the houses brought, and heap’dTheir firewood, and the winds from off the plainRoll’d the rich vapor far into the heaven.And these all night upon the bridge of warSat glorying; many a fire before them blazed:As when in heaven the stars about the moonLook beautiful, when all the winds are laid,And every height comes out, and jutting peakAnd valley, and the immeasurable heavensBreak open to their highest, and all the starsShine, and the Shepherd gladdens in his heart:So many a fire between the ships and streamOf Xanthus blazed before the towers of Troy,A thousand on the plain; and close by eachSat fifty in the blaze of burning fire;And eating hoary grain and pulse the steeds,Fixt by their cars, waited the golden dawn. Homer, Iliad, VIII, 542-561.Alfred, Lord Tennyson, "The Trojan Camp-fires",Cornhill Magazine, 8 (December 1863); Works, 3 (1872) So Hector...] So Hector said, and sea-like roar’d his host;bridge of war] ridge of warAnd eating...] (a) And champing golden grain, the horses stood / Hard by their chariots, waiting for the dawn.(b) And eating hoary grain and pulse the steeds / Stood by their cars, waiting the thronèd morn. So saying, light-foot Iris pass’d away.Then rose Achilles dear to Zeus; and roundThe warrior’s puissant shoulders Pallas flungHer fringèd ægis, and around his headThe glorious goddess wreath’d a golden cloud,And from it lighted an all-shining flame.As when a smoke from a city goes to heavenFar off from out an island girt by foes, All day the men contend in grievous warFrom their own city, and with set of sunTheir fires flame thickly, and aloft the glareFlies streaming, if perchance the neighbours roundMay see, and sail to help them in the war;So from his head the splendour went to heaven.From wall to dyke he stept, he stood, nor join’dThe Achaeans—honouring his wise mother’s word—There standing, shouted; Pallas far awayCall’d; and a boundless panic shook the foe.For like the clear voice when a trumpet shrills,Blown by the fierce beleaguerers of a town,So rang the clear voice of Æakidês;And when the brazen cry of ÆakidêsWas heard among the Trojans, all their heartsWere troubled, and the full-maned horses whirl’dThe chariots backward, knowing griefs at hand;And sheer-astounded were the charioteersTo see the dread, unweariable fireThat always o’er the great Peleion’s headBurnt, for the bright-eyed goddess made it burn.Thrice from the dyke he sent his mighty shout,Thrice backward reel’d the Trojans and allies;And there and then twelve of their noblest diedAmong their spears and chariots.  The AchæansEagerly dragg’d Patroclus from the fightAnd laid him on a bier. His friends stood roundWeeping, and with them swift Achilles wentAnd shed hot tears, seeing his faithful friendLaid on the litter, pierc’d with sharp-edg’d bronze;—Him had he sent with chariots and horsesTo war, but never welcomed his return. Homer, Iliad, XVIII, 202-238.Alfred, Lord Tennyson, "Achilles Over the Trench",The Nineteenth Century, 2 (August 1877) Modern So follow’d, Rustum left his tents, and cross’dThe camp, and to the Persian host appear’d.And all the Persians knew him, and with shoutsHail’d; but the Tartars knew not who he was.And dear as the wet diver to the eyesOf his pale wife who waits and weeps on shore,By sandy Bahrein, in the Persian Gulf,Plunging all day in the blue waves, at night,Having made up his tale of precious pearls,Rejoins her in their hut upon the sands—So dear to the pale Persians Rustum came.  And Rustum to the Persian front advanc’d,And Sohrab arm’d in Haman’s tent, and came.And as afield the reapers cut a swatheDown through the middle of a rich man’s corn,And on each side are squares of standing corn,And in the midst a stubble, short and bare;So on each side were squares of men, with spearsBristling, and in the midst, the open sand.And Rustum came upon the sand, and castHis eyes towards the Tartar tents, and sawSohrab come forth, and ey’d him as he came.  As some rich woman, on a winter’s morn,Eyes through her silken curtains the poor drudgeWho with numb blacken’d fingers makes her fire—At cock-crow, on a starlit winter’s morn,When the frost flowers the whiten’d window panes—And wonders how she lives, and what the thoughtsOf that poor drudge may be; so Rustum ey’dThe unknown adventurous Youth, who from afarCame seeking Rustum, and defying forthAll the most valiant chiefs: long he perus’dHis spirited air, and wonder’d who he was.For very young he seem’d, tenderly rear’d;Like some young cypress, tall, and dark, and straight,Which in a queen’s secluded garden throwsIts slight dark shadow on the moonlit turf,By midnight, to a bubbling fountain’s sound—So slender Sohrab seem’d, so softly rear’d.And a deep pity enter’d Rustum’s soulAs he beheld him coming; [...] Matthew Arnold, Sohrab and Rustum (1853) Quotes about Homeric simile External links Category:Literature