Description that appeals to the senses (what is seen, heard, smelled, tasted, or touched) and makes the reader perceive the scene, not just understand it.
In the Iliad
and the boy shrank back, crying out, into the bosom of his nurse with the lovely waist, frightened by the sight of his dear father, fearing the bronze and the horsehair plume that he saw nodding terribly from the top of the helmet.
The line gathers the child's cry, the glint of bronze, and the sway of the plume at the top of the helmet. The reader sees and hears the scene, and understands the child's fright before any explanation.
Book VI: Hector and Andromache, the narrator
As when in the sky the stars around the bright moon shine forth, when the air is still without wind; [...] so many, between the ships and the streams of Xanthus, the blazing campfires of the Trojans appeared before Ilion. A thousand fires burned on the plain, and beside each one sat fifty men, in the light of the blazing fire.
Book VIII: The Battle Interrupted, the narrator
but the father Zeus, who dwells on high, put fear into Ajax: he stopped, stunned, threw his seven-hide shield onto his back and withdrew, looking at the crowd like a beast, turning at every step and slowly shifting one knee for the other.
Book XI: The Aristeia of Agamemnon, the narrator
Why do you weep, Patroclus, like a little girl who, running beside her mother, begs to be carried in her arms, clinging to her dress, and holds her back when she is in a hurry,
Book XVI: The Death of Patroclus, Achilles
May discord vanish from among gods and men, and anger, which drives even the very sensible to rage, anger that, far sweeter than dripping honey, grows like smoke in the chests of men: that is how the lord of men, Agamemnon, just now angered me.
Book XVIII: Achilles' Shield, Achilles
There came a grinding of teeth from him, and his eyes shone like a flash of fire, and into his heart came an unbearable grief; and he, raging against the Trojans, put on the gifts of the god, which Hephaestus had labored to make.
Book XIX: The End of Wrath, the narrator
As divine fire lays waste the deep valleys of a parched mountain, and the dense forest burns, and the wind, stirring it everywhere, rolls the flame along, so he ran everywhere with his spear, like a god, chasing the dying; and the black earth ran with blood.
Book XX: The Battle of the Gods, the narrator
there came the soul of the unhappy Patroclus, in all things like him, in size, in the lovely eyes and the voice, and with the same clothes on his body.
Book XXIII: The Funeral Games, the narrator
as he lies dew-fresh, and the blood is washed away, with no filth anywhere, and all the wounds have closed, those that were struck upon him, though many drove bronze into him. So the blessed gods care for your son, even dead, because he was dear to their hearts.
Book XXIV: The Ransom of Hector, Hermes
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