And folemn fadness through the gloom of hell, The train of thofe who by Egyítus fell.

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O mighty chief! (Pelides thus began) Honour' by jove above the lot of man! King of a hundred kings! to whom refign'd The frongeft, braveit, greatest of mankind. Com'it thou the first to view this dreary state? And was the nobleft the first mark or Fate? Condemn'd to pay the great arrear fo foon, The lot, which all lament, and none can fhun; Oh! better hadft thou funk in Trojan ground, With all thy full-blown honours cover'd round! Then grateful Greece with ftreaming eyes might

Nor ceas'd the ftrife, till Jove himself oppos'd,
And all in tempefts the dire evening clos'd.
Then to the fleet we bore the honour'd load,
And decent on the funeral bed bestow'd.
Then unguents fweet and tepid ftreams we
fhed;

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Tears flow'd from every eye, and o'er the dead
Each clipt the curling honours of his head.
Struck at the news thy azure Mother came :
The fea-green fifters waited on the dame:
A voice of loud lament through all the main
Was heard and terror feiz'd the Grecian train :
Back to their fhips the frighted hoft had fled;
But Neftor fpoke, they liften'd and obey'd
(From old experience Neftor's counsel fprings,
And long viciffitudes of human things.)
"Forbear your flight : fair Thetis from the main,
"To mourn Achilles, leads her azure train."
Around thee ftands the daughters of the deep, 75
Robe thee in heavenly veits, and round thee weep,
Round thee, the Mufes, with alternate ftrain,
In ever-confecrating verfe, complain.
Each warlike Greek the moving mufic hears,
And iron-hearted heroes melt in tears
Tillfeventeen nights and feventeen days return'd,
All that was mortal or immortal mourn'd.
To flames we gave thee the fucceeding day,
And fatted fheep and fable oxen flay;
With oils and honey blaze th' augmented fires. 85
And, like a God, adorn'd, thy earthly part expires.
Unnumber'd warriors round the burning pile
Urge the feet courfer's o'er the racer's toil;
Thick clouds of duft o'er all the circle rife,

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(The vafe to Thetis Bacchus gave of old,
And Vulcan's art enrich'd the fculptur'd gold.)
There we thy relics, great Achilles! blend
With dear Patroclus, thy departed friend:
In the fame urn a separate space contains
Thy next belov'd Antilochus' remains.
Now all the fons of warlike Greece furround
Thy deftin'd tomb, and caft a mighty mound:
High on the fhore the growing hill we raise,
That wide th' extended Hellefpont furveys:
Where all, from age to age who pafs the coaft, 105
May point Achilles' tomb, and hail the mighty
ghoft.

Thetis herself to all our peers proclaims
Heroic prizes and exequial games;

The Gods affented; and around thee lay

Rich fpoils and gifts that blaz'd against the day.
Oft have I feen with folemn funeral games
Heroes and kings committed to the flames;
But ftrength of youth, or valour of the brave
With nobler contest ne'er renown'd a grave.
Such were the games by azure Thetis given, 115
And fuch thy honours, O belov'd of Heaven!
Dear to mankind thy fame furvives, nor fades,
Its bloom eternal in the Stygian fhades.
But what to me avail my honours gone,
Successful toils, and battles bravely won,
Doom'd by ftern Jove at home to end my life,
By curft Egyftus and a faithlefs wife!

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Thus they; while Hermes o'er the dreary plain Led the fad numbers by Ulyffes lain, On each majestic form they caft a view, And timorous pafs'd and awfully withdrew. But Agamemnon, through the gloomy fhade. His ancient hoft Amphimedon furvey'd; Son of Melanthius! (he began) oh fay! What caufe compell'd fo many and fo gay, 130 To tread the downward, melancholy way? Say, could one city yield a troop fo fair? Were all these partners of ohe native air? Or did the rage of ftormy Neptune sweep Your lives at once, and whelm beneath the deep? Did nightly thieves, or pirates cruel bands, 136 Drench with your blood your pillag'd country's fands?

140

Or well-defending fome beleagur'd wall,
Say, for the public did ye greatly fall?
Inform thy gueft; for fuch I was of yore
When our triumphant navies touch'd your fore;
Forc'd a long month the wintery feas to bear,
To move the great Ulyffes to the war.
O king of men! I faithful fhall relate
(Reply'd Amphimedon) our hapless fate.
Ulyffes abfent, our ambitious aim
With rival loves purfued his royal dame :
Her coy referve, and prudence mind with pride,
Our common fuit nor granted, nor deny'd;
But close with inward hate our deaths defign'd;
Vers'd in all arts of wily womankind.
Her hand, laborious, in delu on spread

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Soon as abforpt in all-embracing flame
Sunk what was mortal of thy mighty name,
We then collect thy fnowy bones, and place
With wines and unguents in a golden vafe
VOL. VI.
>

Ye peers (the cry'd) who prefs to gain my heart
Where dead Ulyffes claims no more a part, 155
Yet a fhort space your rival fuit fufpend,
Till this funereal web my labours end:

PP

Ceafe, till to good Laertes I bequeath
A talk of grief, his ornaments of death:
Left, when the Fates his royal ashes claim, 160
The Grecian matrons taint my spotlefs fame;
Should, he, long honour'dwith fupreme command,
Want the latt duties of a daughter's hand.
The fiction pleas'd: our generous train com-
plies,

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245

Nor fraud miftrufts in virtue's fair difguife.
The wor the ply'd: but, studious of delay,
Each following night revers'd the toils of day.
Unheard, unften, three years her arts prevail :
The fourth, her maid reveal'd th' amazing tale,
And how'd, as unperceiv'd we took our stand,
The backward labours of her faithlefs hand. 171
Forc'd the completes it; and before us lay
The mingled web, whole gold and £lver ray
Difplay'd the radiance of the night and day.
Just as the finish'd her illufirious toil,
Ill-fortune led Ulyffes to our ifle.
Far in a lonely nook, befide the fea,
At an old fwineherd's rural lodge he lay :
Thither his fon from faudy Pyle repairs,
And fpeedy lands, and fecretly confers.
They plan our future ruis, and refort
Confederate to the city and the court.
First came the fon; the father next fucceeds,
Clad like a beggar, whom Eumæus leads;
Propp'd on a itaff, deform'd with age and care,
And hung with rags that flutter'd in the air. 186
Who could Ulyffes in that form behold?
Scorn'd by the young, forgotten by the old,
Ill-us'd by all! to every wrong refign'd,
Patient he fufier'd with a conftant mind.
But when, arifing in his wrath t' obey
The will of Jove, he gave the vengeance way:
'The scatter'd arms that hung around the dome
Careful he treafur'd in a private room:
Then to her fuitors bade the queen propofe
The archer's ftrife: the fource of future woes,
An omen of our death! In vain we drew
The twanging string, and try'd the stubborn yew
To none it yields but great Ulyffes' hands;
In vain we threat; Telemachus commands: 200
The bow he fnatch'd, and in an instant bent;
Through every ring the victor arrow went.
Fierce on the threshold then in arms he flood:
Pour'd forth the darts that thirited for our blood,
And frown'd before us, dreadful as a God! 205
First bleeds Antinous; thick the shafts refound;
And heaps on heaps the wretches ftrow the
ground;

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This way, and that, we turn, we fly, we fall: Some God affified, and unmann'd us all : Ignoble cries precede the dying groans; And batter'd brains and blood befmear the ftones. Thus, great Atrides, thus Ulyffes drove The fhades thou feeft, from yon fair realms above, Our mangled bodies now deformed with gore, Cold and neglected, spread the marble floor, 215 No friend to bathe our wounds! or tears to thed O'er the pale corfe! the honours of the dead. Oh blefs'd Ulyffes (thus the king exprefs'd His fudden rapture) in thy confort blefs'd! Not more thy wisdom, than her virtue fhin'd; Not more thy patience, than her conftant mind,

Here now arriving to his ruftic band And martial fon, Ulyffes gave command: Enter the house, and of the briftly swine Select the largest to the powers divine. Alone, and unattended, let me try If yet I fhare the old man's memory: If thefe dim eyes can yet Ulyffes know (Their light and dearest object long ago), Now chang'd with time with abfence, and

with woe?

250

Then to his train he gives his fpear and shield; The house they enter, and he feeks the field, Through rows of fade, with various fruitage

crown'd,

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265

255 And labour'd fcenes of richeft verdure round. Nor aged Dolius, nor his fons were there, Nor fervants, abfent on another care; To fearch the woods for fets of flowery thorn, Their orchard bounds to ftrengthen and adorn. But all alone the hoary king he found; His habit coarfe, but warmly wrapt around; His head, that bow'd with many a penfive care, Fenc'd with a double cap of goatskin hair: His bufkins old, in former service torn, But well repair'd; and gloves against the thorn. In this array the kingly gardener ftocd. And clear'd a plant, encumber'd with its wood. Beneath a neighbouring tree the chief divine Gaz'd o'er his fire, retracing every line, The ruins of himfelf! now worn away With age, yet ftill majestic in decay! Sudden his eyes releas'd their watery store; The much-enduring man could bear no more. Doubtful he stood, if inftant to embrace 275 His aged limbs, to kifs his reverend face, With eager tranfport to difclose the whole. And pour at once the torrent of his foulNot fo: his judgment takes the winding way 280 Of quenion diftant, and of foft effay : More gentle methods on weak age employs; And moves the forrows to enhance the joys. Then, to his fire with beating heart he moves; And with a tender pleafantry reproves :

270

Who digging round the plant ftill hangs his head 285

Nor aught remits the work, while thus he said:
Great is thy fkill, O father, great thy toil,
Thy careful hand is stamp'd on all the foil,
Thy squadron'd vineyards well thy art declare,
The olive green, blue fig, and pendent pear; 290
And not one empty spot escapes thy care,
On every plant and tree thy cares are shown,
Nothing neglected, but thyfelf alone.
Forgive me, father, if this fault I blame ;

305

Age fo advanc'd may fome indulgence claim. 295
Not for thy floth, I deem thy lord unkind:
Nor fpeaks thy form a mean or fervile mind:
I read a monarch in that princely air,
The fame thy afpect, if the fame thy care;
Soft fleep, fair garments, and the joys of wine, 300
Thefe are the rights of age, and fhould be thine.
Who then thy mafter, fay? and whofe the land
So drefs'd and manag'd by thy skilful hand?
But chief, oh tell me! (what I question most)
Is this the far-fam'd Ithacenfian coaft?
For fo reported the first man I view d,
(Some furly iflander, of manners rude)
Nor further conference vouchsaf'd to stay;
Heedlefs he whistled, and purfu'd his way,
But thou! whom years have taught to understand,
Humanely hear, and answer my demand: [310
A friend I feek, a wife one and a brave,
Say, lives he yet, or moulders in the grave?
Time was (my fortunes then were at the beft)
When at my houfe I lodg'd this foreign gueft; 315
He faid, from Ithaca's fair ifle he came,
And old Laertes was his father's name.
To him, whatever to a gueft is ow'd
I paid, and hofpitable gifts beftow'd:
To him feven talents of pure ore I told,
Twelve cloaks, twelve vefts, twelve tunics stiff
with gold;

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A bowl, that rich with polish'd filver flames,
And, skill'd in female works, four lovely dames,
At this the father, with a father's fears,
(His venerable eyes bedimm'd with tears,)
This is the land; but ah! thy gifts are loft,
For godlefs men, and rude, poffefs the coaft:
Sunk is the glory of this once-fam'd shore!
Thy ancient friend, () ftranger, is no more!
Full recompence thy bounty elfe had borne;
For every good man yields a juft return:
So civil rights demand; and who begins
The track of friendship, not pursuing, fins,
But tell me, stranger, be the truth confefs'd
What years have circled fince thou faw'ft that
guest?

That hapless gueft, alas! for ever gone!
Wretch that he was! and that I am! my fon!
If ever man to mifery was born,

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'Twas his to fuffer, and 'tis mine to mourn!
Far from his friends, and from his native reign, 340
He lies a prey to monfters of the maiu,
Or favage beafts his mangled relics tear,
Or fcreaming vultures fcatter through the air:
Nor could his mother funeral unguents fhed;
Nor wail'd his father o'er th' untimely dead: 345

Nor his fad confort, on the mournful bier, Seal'd his cold eyes or dropp'd a tender tear! But tell me, who thou art? and what thy race? Thy town, thy parents, and thy native place? Or, it a merchant in pursuit of gain, 350 What port receiv'd thy veffel from the main? Or com'ft thou fingle, or attend thy train?

355

Then thus the fon : From Alybas I came, My palace there; Eperitus my name. Not vulgar born; trom Aphidas, the king 'Of Polypemon's royal line, I fpring. Some adverfe Dæmon from Sicania bore Our wandering courfe, and drove us on your shore: Far from the town, an unfrequented bay; Reliev'd our weary'd veffel from the fea. Five years have circled fince thefe eyes pursued Ulyffes parting through the fable flood; Profperous he fail'd, with dexter auguries, And all the wing'd good omens of the fkies. 364 Well hop'd we, then, to meet on this air fhore, Whom Heaven, alas! decreed to meet no more.

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Amaz'd, Laertes, "Give fome certain fign, "(If fuch thou art) to manifeft thee mine." Lo here the wound (he cries) receiv'd of yore, The fear indented by the tusky boar, When by thyfelf and by Anticlea fent To old Autolychus's realms I went. Yet by another fign thy offspring know; The feveral trees you gave me long ago, While, yet a child, these fields I lov'd to trace, And trod thy footfteps with unequal pace; To every plant in order as we came, Well-pleas'd you told its nature, and its name, Whate'er my childish ancy afk'd, bestow'd; Twelve pear-trees bowing with their pendent load,

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They part, and join him; but the number ftay'd. They ftorm, they fhout, with hafty phrenzy fir'd, And fecond all Eupithes' rage infpir'd.

535

They cafe their limbs in brafs; to arms they run;
The broad effulgence blazes in the iun.
Before the city, and in ample plain,
They meet: Eupithes heads the frantic train.
Fierce for his fon, he breathes his threats in air;
Fate hears them not, and Death attends him
there.

This pafs'd on earth, while in the realms above

Minerva thus to cloud-compelling Jove:
May I prefume to fearch thy fecret foul?
0 Power fupreme! O Ruler of the whole!
Say, haft thou doom'd to this divided state
Or peaceful amity, or ftern debate?
Declare thy purpofe; for thy will is Fate.

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Is not thy thought my own? (the God replies Who rolls the thunder o'er the vaulted skies) Hath not long fince thy knowing foul decreed, The chief's return fhould make the guilty bleed?

Tis done, and at thy will the Fates fucceed.
Yet hear the iffue: fince Ulyffes' hand

550

Has flain the fuitors, Heaven fhall blefs the land,
None now the kindred of th' unjust shall own;
Forgot the flaughter'd brother, and the fon: 555
Each future day increafe of wealth fhall bring,
And o'er the past, Oblivion ftretch her wing.
Long fhall Ulyffes in his empire rest,
His people bleffing, by his people bless'd.
Let all be peace-He said, and gave the nod 560
That binds the Fates; the fanction of the God:
And, prompt to execute th' eternal will,
Defcended Pallas from th' Olympian hill.
Now fat Ulyffes at the rural feat,

The

The fuffering hero felt his patient breaft
Swell with new joy, and thus his son address'd :
Behold, Telemachus! (nor fear the fight)
The brave embattled; the grim front of fight!
The valiant with the valiant must contend:
Shame not the line whence glorious you defcend,
Wide o'er the world their martial fame was
spread;

Regard thy felf, the living, and the dead.

Thy eyes, great father! on this battle caft, 590 Shall learn from me Penelope was chafie.

So fpoke Telemachus! the gallant boy Good old Laertes heard with panting joy; [cries, And, Blefs'd! thrice blefs'd this happy day! he The day that shows me, ere I close my eyes, 595 A fon and grandfon of th' Arcefan name Strive for fair virtue, and conteft for fame! Then thus Minerva in Laertes' ear: Son of Arcefius, reverend warrior, hear! Jove and jove's Daughter firft implore in prayer, Then, whirling high, discharge thy lance in air, She faid, infuting courage with the word: 602 Jove and Jove's Daughter then the chief implor'd, And, whirling high, difmifs'd the lance in air, Full at Eupithes drove the deathful spear; The brafs-cheek'd helmet opens to the wound; He falls, earth thunders, and his arms refound. Before the father and the conquering fon 608 Heaps rush on heaps; they fight, they drop, they Now by the fword, and now the javelin, fall [run. The rebel race, and death had fwallow'd all; But from on high the blue-ey'd virgin cry'd; Her aw'ul voice detain'd the headlong tide. "Forbear, ye nations! your mad hands forbear "From mutual flaughter: Peace defcends to ." fpare."

613

rage of hunger and of thirst reprefs'd: To watch the foe a trusty spy he fent; A fon of Dolius on the meffage went, Stood in the way, and at a glance beheld The foe approach, embattled on the field. With backward ftep he haftens to the bower, 576 And tells the news. They arm with all their

power.

Four friends alone Ulyffes' caufe embrace,
And fix were all the fons of Dolius' race;
Old Dolius too his rufted arms put on;
And, ftill more old, in arins Laertes fhone. 575
Trembling with warmth, the hoary heroes ftand,
And, brazen Panoply inverts the band.

The opening gates at once their war display :
Fierce they rush forth: Ulyffes leads the way.
That moment joins them with celeftial aid, 580
In Mentor's form, the Jove-defcended Maid:

625

So Pallas fpoke: the mandate from above The king obey'd. The Virgin-feed of Jove, 630 In Mentor's form, confirm'd the full accord, "And willing nations knew their lawful lord."

RECOMMENDATORY POEMS.

TO MR. POPE,

ON HIS PASTORALS.

N thofe more dull, as more cenforious days, When few dare give, and fewer merit praife, A Mufe fincere, that never Flattery knew, Pays what to friendship and defert is due.