Whom any sent away, — he knows:And in the live man’s stead,Armour and ashes reachThe house of each. For Ares, gold-exchanger for the dead,And balance-holder in the fight o’ the spear,Due-weight from Ilion sends —What moves the tear on tear —A charred scrap to the friends:Filling with well-packed ashes every urn,For man — that was — the sole return.And they groan — praising much, the while,Now this man as experienced in the strife,Now that, fallen nobly on a slaughtered pile,Because of — not his own — another’s wife.But things there be, one barks,