All 18 Uses of

ire
in
The Iliad by Homer - (translated by: Pope)

The prophet spoke: when with a gloomy frown The monarch started from his shining throne; Black choler fill'd his breast that boil'd with ire, And from his eye-balls flash'd the living fire: "Augur accursed!†
Book 1

ire = anger

So raged Tydides, boundless in his ire, Drove armies back, and made all Troy retire.†
Book 5 *

The largest mantle her rich wardrobes hold, Most prized for art, and labour'd o'er with gold, Before the goddess' honour'd knees be spread, And twelve young heifers to her altars led: If so the power, atoned by fervent prayer, Our wives, our infants, and our city spare, And far avert Tydides' wasteful ire, That mows whole troops, and makes all Troy retire; Not thus Achilles taught our hosts to dread, Sprung though he was from more than mortal bed; Not thus resistless ruled the stream of fight, In rage unbounded, and unmatch'd in might.†
Book 6

So may the power, atoned by fervent prayer, Our wives, our infants, and our city spare; And far avert Tydides' wasteful ire, Who mows whole troops, and makes all Troy retire.†
Book 6

Paris and Greece against us both conspire, Thy close resentment, and their vengeful ire.†
Book 6

Young Agelaus (Phradmon was his sire) With flying coursers shunn'd his dreadful ire; Struck through the back, the Phrygian fell oppress'd; The dart drove on, and issued at his breast: Headlong he quits the car: his arms resound; His ponderous buckler thunders on the ground.†
Book 8

So shall Minerva learn to fear our ire, Nor dare to combat hers and nature's sire.†
Book 8

So shall Minerva learn to fear his ire, Nor dare to combat hers and nature's sire.†
Book 8

If no regard thy suffering country claim, Hear thy own glory, and the voice of fame: For now that chief, whose unresisted ire Made nations tremble, and whole hosts retire, Proud Hector, now, the unequal fight demands, And only triumphs to deserve thy hands.†
Book 9

Learn hence, betimes to curb pernicious ire, Nor stay till yonder fleets ascend in fire; Accept the presents; draw thy conquering sword; And be amongst our guardian gods adored.†
Book 9

So fares a boar whom all the troop surrounds Of shouting huntsmen and of clamorous hounds; He grinds his ivory tusks; he foams with ire; His sanguine eye-balls glare with living fire; By these, by those, on every part is plied; And the red slaughter spreads on every side.†
Book 11

Thus from the rage of Jove-like Hector flew All Greece in heaps; but one he seized, and slew: Mycenian Periphes, a mighty name, In wisdom great, in arms well known to fame; The minister of stern Eurystheus' ire Against Alcides, Copreus was his sire: The son redeem'd the honours of the race, A son as generous as the sire was base; O'er all his country's youth conspicuous far In every virtue, or of peace or war: But doom'd to Hector's stronger force to yield!†
Book 15

Proud of his deed, and glorious in the prize, Affrighted Troy the towering victor flies: Flies, as before some mountain lion's ire The village curs and trembling swains retire, When o'er the slaughter'd bull they hear him roar, And see his jaws distil with smoking gore: All pale with fear, at distance scatter'd round, They shout incessant, and the vales resound.†
Book 17

But go, Achilles, as affairs require, Before the Grecian peers renounce thine ire: Then uncontroll'd in boundless war engage, And heaven with strength supply the mighty rage!†
Book 19

So, roll'd up in his den, the swelling snake Beholds the traveller approach the brake; When fed with noxious herbs his turgid veins Have gather'd half the poisons of the plains; He burns, he stiffens with collected ire, And his red eyeballs glare with living fire.†
Book 22

Oft have these eyes that godlike Hector view'd In glorious fight, with Grecian blood embrued: I saw him when, like Jove, his flames he toss'd On thousand ships, and wither'd half a host: I saw, but help'd not: stern Achilles' ire Forbade assistance, and enjoy'd the fire.†
Book 24

Then call the handmaids, with assistant toil To wash the body and anoint with oil, Apart from Priam: lest the unhappy sire, Provoked to passion, once more rouse to ire The stern Pelides; and nor sacred age, Nor Jove's command, should check the rising rage.†
Book 24

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