60

65

If truth infpires thy tongue, proclaim our will
To yon bright fynod on th' Olympian hill;
Our high decree let various Iris know,
And call the God that bears the filver bow.
Let her defcend, and from th' embattled plain
Command the Sea-god to his watery reign:
While Phoebus haftes, great Hector to prepare
To rife afresh, and once more wake the war;
His labouring bofom re-infpires with breath,
Aud calls his fenfes from the verge of death.
Greece, chas'd by Troy ev'n to Achilles' fleet.
Shall fall by thoufands at the hero's feet.
He, not untouch'd with pity, to the plain
Shall fend Patroclus, but shall send in vain.
What youths he laughters under llion's walls!
Ev'n my lov'd fon, divine Sarpedon, falls!
Vanquish'd at last by Hector's lance he lies,
Then, nor till then, fhall great Achilles rife;
And lo! that inftant godlike Hector dies. 75
From that great hour the war's whole fortune
turns,

Pailas aflifts, and lofty Ilion burns:

70

}

Not till that day fhall Jove relax his rage,
Nor one of all the heavenly hoft engage
In aid of Greece. The promife of a God
I gave, and feal'd it with th' almighty nod,
Achilles' glory to the stars to raise:
Such was our word, and Fate the word obeys.
The trembling Queen (th' almighty order given)
Swift from th' Idæan fummit fhot to heaven. 85
As fome way-faring man, who wanders o'er
In thought a length of lands he trod before,
Sends forth his active mind from place to place,
Joins hill to dale, and measures space with space;
So fwift flew Juno to the bleft abodes,
If thought of man can match the speed of Gods,
There fat the Powers in awful fynod plac'd:
They bow'd, and made obeifance as the pafs'd,
Through all the brazen dome: with goblets

crown'd

90

Exempted from the race ordain'd to die?

165

This menace fix'd the warrior to his throne: 160 Sullen he fat, and curb'd the rifing groan. Then Juno call'd (Jove's orders to obey) The winged Iris, and the God of Day. Go wait the Thunderer's will (Saturnia cry'd) On yon tall fummit of the fountful Ide: There in the Father's awful presence stand, Receive, and execute his dread command. She faid, and fat: the God that gilds the day, And various Iris, wing their airy way. Swift as the wind, to Ida's hill they came (Fair nurse of fountains and of favage game); There fat th' Eternal; he, whofe nod controls The trembling world, and fhakes the fteady poles. Veil'd in a mist of fragrance him they found, With clouds of gold and purple circled round: 175

170

Well-pleas'd the Thunderer faw their carneft

care,

180

And prompt obedience to the Queen of Air;
Then (while a fmile ferenes his awful brow),
Commands the Goddefs of the showery bow:
Iris! defcend, and what we here ordain
Report to yon mad Tyrant of the Main.
Bid him from fight to his own deeps repair,
Or breathe from flaughter in the fields of air.
If he refufe, then let him timely weigh
Our elder birthright, and superior sway.
How fhall his rafhness ftand the dire alarms,
If Heaven's omnipotence defcend in arms?
Strives he with me, by whom his power was given,
And is there equal to the Lord of Heaven?
Th' Almighty fpoke: the Goddefs wing'd her
Aight

To facred Ilion from th' Idaan height.
Swift as the rattling hail, or fleecy fnows,

185

190

Drive through the fkies, when Boreas fiercely blows;

So from the clouds defcending Iris falls,

To favour Ilion, that perfidious place,
He breaks his faith with half th' ethereal race;
Give him to know, unless the Grecian train 240
Lay yon proud ftructures level with the plain,
Howe'er th' offence by other Gods be paft,
The wrath of Neptune fhall for ever last.
Thus fpeaking, furious from the field he ftrode,
And plung'd into the bofom of the food. 245
The Lord of Thunders from his lofty height
Beheld, and thus befpoke the Source of Light:
Behold! the God whofe liquid arms are hurl'd
Around the globe; whose earthquakes rock the
world;

250

260

Attend the mandate of the Sire above, In me behold the meffenger of Jove. He bids thee from forbidden wars repair To thy own deeps, or to the fields of air. This if refus'd, he bids thee timely weigh His elder birthright, and fuperior fway. How fhall thy rafhnefs ftand the dire alarms, If Heaven's omnipotence defcend in arms? Striv'ft thou with him, by whom all power is given?

205

210

215

220

And art thou equal to the Lord of Heaven?
What means the haughty Sovereign of the Skies
(The King of Ocean thus, incens'd, replies)
Rule as he will his portion'd realms on high;
No vaffal God, nor of his train, am I.
Three brother Deities from Saturn came,
And ancient Rhea, Earth's immortal dame:
Affign'd by lot, our triple rule we know ;
Infernal Pluto fways the fhades below;
O'er the wide clouds, and o'er the ftarry plain,
Ethereal Jove extends his high domain;
My court beneath the hoary waves I keep,
And hufh the roarings of the facred deep:
Olympus, and this earth, in common lie;
What claim has here the Tyrant of the Sky?
Far in the diftant clouds let him control,
And awe the younger brothers of the pole;
There to his children his commands be given,
The trembling, fervile, fecond race of Heaven.
And muft I then (faid fhe) O Sire of Floods!
Bear this fierce answer to the King of Gods? 225
Correct it yet, and change thy rafh intent;
A noble mind difdains not to repent.
To elder brothers guardian fiends are given,
Tofcourge the wretch infulting them and Heaven.
Great is the profit (thus the God rejoin'd) 230
When minifters are bleft with pradent mind:
Warn'd by thy words, to powerful Jove I yield,
And quit, though angry, the contended field.
Not but his threats with juftice I disclaim,
The fame our honours, and our birth the fame. 235
If yet, forgetful of his promife given

To Hermes, Pallas, and the Queen of Heaven;
VOL. VI.

Then Greece fhall breathe from toils-The Godhead faid;

265

270

His will divine the fon of Jove obey'd.
Not half fo fwift the failing falcon flies,
That drives a turtle through the liquid fkies;
As Phœbus, fhooting from th' Idæan brow,
Glides down the mountain to the plain below.
There Hector feated by the ftream he fees,
His fenfe returning with the coming breeze;
Again his pulfes beat, his fpirits rife ;
Again his lov'd companions meet his eyes;
Jove thinking of his pains, they past away.
To whom the God who gives the golden day: 275
Why fits great Hector from the field fo far?
What grief, what wound, withholds thee from
the war?

The fainting hero, as the vifion bright
Stood fhining o'er him, half unfeal'd his fight:
What bleft Immortal, with commanding breath, 280
Thus wakens Hector from the fleep of death?
Has fame not told, how, while my trusty sword
Bath'd Greece in flaughter, and her battle gor'd,
The mighty Ajax with a deadly blow
Had almoft funk me to the fhades below?
Ev'n yet, methinks, the gliding ghosts I spy,
And hell's black horrors fwim before my eye.

285

To him Apollo: Be no more difmay'd; See, and be strong! the Thunderer fends thee aid. Behold! thy Phœbus fhall his arms employ, 290 Phoebus, propitious ftill to thee and Troy. Inspire thy warriors then with manly force, And to the fhips impel thy rapid horse: Ev'n I will make thy fiery courfers way, And drive the Grecians headlong to the fea. 295 Thus to bold Hector fpoke the fon of Jove, And breath'd immortal ardour from above. As when the pamper'd fteed, with reins unbound, Breaks from his ftall, and pours along the ground;

е

With ample strokes he rushes to the flood,
To bathe his fides, and cool his fiery blood;
His head now freed, he toffes to the skies;
His mane difhevel'd o'er his fhoulders flies:
He fnuffs the females in the well-known plain,
And springs, exulting, to his fields again :
Urg'd by the voice divine, thus Hector flew,
Fall of the God; and all his hosts purfue.
As when the force of men and dogs combin'd
Invade the mountain-goat, or branching hind;
Far from the hunter's rage fecure they lie
Clofe in the rock (not fated yet to die);
When lo! a lion fhoots across the way!
They fly at once the chafers and the prey.

305

310

So Greece, that late in conquering troops purfued,

And mark'd their progrefs through the ranks in blood,

315

320

Soon as they fee the furious chief appear,
Forget to vanquish, and consent to fear.
Thoas with grief obferv'd his dreadful course,
Thoas, the braveft of th' Ætolian force:
Skill'd to direct the javelin's diftant flight,
And bold to combat in the standing fight;
Nor more in councils fam'd for folid fenfe,
Than winning words and heavenly eloquence.
Gods! what portent (he cry'd) thefe eyes in-
vades?

Lo! Hector rifes from the Stygian fhades!
We faw him, late, by thundering Ajax kill'd:
What God reftores him to the frighted field;
And, not content that half of Greece lie flain,
Pours new deftruction on her fons again?
He comes not, Jove! without thy powerful

325

will; 330

Loftill he lives, pursues and conquers ftill! Yet hear my counsel, and his worst withstand: The Greeks' main body to the fleet command; But let the few whom brifker spirits warm, Stand the first onfet, and provoke the form. Thus point your arms; and when fuch foes pear

Fierce as he is, let Hector learn to fear.

335

ap

345

The warrior spoke, the liftening Greeks obey, Thickening their ranks, and form a deep array. Each Ajax, Teucer, Merion, gave command, 340 The valiant leader of the Cretan band, And Mars-like Meges: these the chiefs excite, Approach the foe, and meet the coming fight. Behind, unnumber'd multitudes attend, To flank the navy, and the fhores defend. Full on the front the preffing Trojans bear, And Hector first came towering to the war. Phoebus himself the rushing battle led; A veil of clouds involv'd his radiant head: High-held before him Jove's enormous fhield 350 Portentous fhone, and fhaded all the field; Vulcan to Jove th' immortal gift confign'd, To fcatter hofts, and terrify mankind. The Greeks expect the fhock, the clamours rife From different parts, and mingle in the ikies. Dire was the hils of darts, by heroes flung, And arrows leaping from the bow-ftring fung; Thefe drir the life of generous warriors fiain; Thofe guifs fall, and thirst for blood in vain. As long as Phrebus bore unmov'd the fhield, 360 ot doubtful Conquest hovering o'er the field;

355

No fwain to guard them, and no day to guide,
When two fell lions from the mountain come,
And fpread the carnage through the fhady gloom.
Impending Phoebus pours around them fear, 370
And Troy and Hector thunder in the rear.
Heaps fall on heaps: the flaughter Hector leads;
First great Arcefilas, then Stichius, bleeds;
One to the bold Boeotians ever dear,

And one Menestheus' friend, and fam'd compeer. 375

Medon and läfus, Æneas fped;

This fprung from. Phelus, and th' Athenians led;
But hapiefs Medon from Oilcus came;
Him Ajax honour'd with a brother's name,
Though born of lawless love: from home ex-
pell'd,

380

A banith'd man, in Phylacé he dwell'd,
Prefs'd by the vengeance of an angry wife;
Troy ends, at last, his labours and his life.
Mecyftes next Polydamas o'erthrew;
And thee, brave Clonius, great Agenor flew. 385
By Paris, Deiochus inglorious dies,
Pierc'd through the shoulder as he bafely flies.
Polites' arm laid Echius on the plain;
Stretch'd on one heap, the victors spoil the flain.
The Greeks difmay'd, confus'd, difperfe or fall; 390
Some feek the trench, fome skulk behind the wall.
While these fly trembling, others pant for breath,
And o'er the flaughter ftalks gigantic Death.
On rufh'd bold Hector, gloomy as the night;
Forbids to plunder, animates the fight,
Points to the fleet: For, by the Gods, who flies,
Who dares but linger, by this hand he dies;
No weeping fifter his cold eye fhall close,
No friendly hand his funeral pyre compofe.
Who ftops to plunder at this fignal hour,
The birds fhall tear him, and the dogs devour.

395

400

Furious he faid; the fmarting fcourge refounds; The courfers fly; the fmoking chariot bounds: The hofts rufh on; loud clamours thake the fhore; The horfes thunder, Earth and Ocean roar! 405 Apollo, planted at the trench's bound,

Pufh'd at the bank, down funk th' enormous mound;

Roll'd in the ditch the heapy ruin lay;
A fudden road! a long and ample way.
O'er the dread foffe (a late impervious space) 410
Now fteeds, and men, and cars, tumaltuous pafs.
The wondering crouds the downward level trod;
Before them flam'd the fhield, and march'd the
God.

415

Then with his hand he hook the mighty wall;
And lo! the turrets nod, the bulwarks fall.
Ea'y, as when afhore the infant ftands,
And draws imagin'd houfes in the fands;
The sportive wanton, pleas'd with fome new play,
Sweeps the flight works and fashion'd domes away.
Thus vanish'd, at thy touch, the towers and walls;

The toil of thousands in a moment falls.

420

The Grecians gaze around with wild defpair, Confus'd, and weary all the Powers with prayer;

425

430

Experienc'd Neftor chief obtefts the skies,
And weeps his country with a father's eyes:
O Jove! if ever, on his native fhore,
One Greek enrich'd thy fhrine with offer'd gore;
Ife'er, in hope our country to behold,
We paid the fatteft firftlings of the fold;
We'er thou fign'ft our wishes with thy nod;
Perform the promise of a gracious God!
This day, preferve our navies from the flame,
And fave the reliques of the Grecian name.
Thus pray'd the fage: th' Eternal gave con-
fent,

435

And peals of thunder fhook the firmament:
Prefumptuous Troy miftook th' accepting fign,
And catch'd new fury at the voice divine,
As, when black tempefts mix the feas and fkies,

440

The roaring deeps in watery mountains rise,
Above the fides of fome tall ship afcend,
Its womb they deluge, and its ribs they rend:
Thus, loudly roaring, and o'er-powering all,
Mount the thick Trojans up the Grecian wall; 445
Legions on legions from each fide arife:
Thick found the keels; the ftorm of arrows flics,
Fierce on the fhips above, the cars below,
These wield the mace, and those the javelin throw.
While thas the thunder of the battle rag'd, 450
And labouring armies round the works engag’d;
Still in the tent Patroclus fat, to tend
The good Eurypylus, his wounded friend.
He fprinkles healing balms to anguish kind,
And adds difcourfe, the medicine of the mind. 455
But when he saw, afcending up the fleet,
Victorious Troy; then, starting from his feat,
With bitter groans his forrows he expreft,
He wrings his hands, he beats his manly breaft.
Though yet thy ftate requires redress (he cries)

460

Depart I must what horrors strike my eyes!
Charg'd with Achilles' high commands I go,
A mournful witnefs of this scene of woe :
I hafte to urge him, by his country's care,
To rife in arms, and fhine again in war.
Perhaps fome favouring God his foul may bend;
The voice is powerful of a faithful friend.

465

He spoke ; and speaking, fwifter than the wind
Sprung from the tent, and left the ward behind.
Th' embody'd Greeks the fierce attack futain, 470
But ftrive, though numerous, to repuИe, in vain!
Nor could the Trojans, through that firm array,
Force to the fleet and tents th' impervious way.
As when a fhipwright with Palladian art,
Smooths the rough wood, and levels every part;
475

With equal hand he guides his whole design,
By the juft rule, and the directing line:
The martial leaders, with like skill and care,
Preferv'd their line, and equal kept the war.
Brave deeds of arms through all the ranks were
try'd,

And every ship fustain’d an equal tide.

480

At one proud bark, high-towering o'er the fleet, Ajax the great and godlike Hector meet;

The deck approaching, fhakes a flaming brand; But pierc'd by Telamon's huge lance expires; 490 Thundering he falls, and drops th' extinguifh'ḍ

fires.

Great Hector view'd him with a fad furvey,
As ftretch'd in duft before the ftern he lay.
Oh! all of Trojan, all of Lycian race! [495
Stand to your arms, maintain this arduous space:
Lo! where the fon of royal Clytius lies;
Ah, fave his arms, fecure his obfequies!

This faid, his eager javelin fought the foe:
But Ajax fhunn'd the meditated blow.
Not vainly yet the forceful lance was thrown; 500
It stretch'd in duft unhappy Lycophron :
An exile long, fuftain'd at Ajax board,
faithful fervant to a Aforeign lord;
In peace, in war, for ever at his fide,
Near his lov'd mafter, as he liv'd, he dy'd.
From the high poop he tumbles on the fand,
And lies a lifeless load along the land.
With anguifh Ajax views the piercing fight,
And thus inflames his brother to the fight;

508

510

Teucer, behold! extended on the shore Our friend, our lov'd companion! now no more! Dear as a parent, with a parent's care To fight our wars, he left his native air. This death deplor'd, to Hector's rage we owe; Revenge, revenge it on the cruel foe. 515 Where are thofe darts on which the Fates attend? And where the bow, which Phoebus taught to bend?

Impatient Teucer, haftening to his aid, Before the chief his ample bow difplay'd;

The well-ftor'd quiver on his fhoulders hung:

520

Then hifs'd his arrow, and the bow-ftring fung.
Clytius, Pifenor's fon, renown'd in fame
(To thee, Polydamas! an honour'd name)
Drove thro' the thickeft of th' embattled plains
The ftartling steeds, and fhook his eager reins. 525
As all on glory ran his ardent mind,
The pointed death arrefts him from behind.
Through his fair neck the thrilling arrow flies;
In youth's first bloem reluctantly he dies.
Hurl'd from the lofty feat, at distance far,
The headlong courfers fpurn his empty car;
Till fad Polydamas the feeds reftrain'd,
And gave, Aftynous, to thy careful hand;
Then, fir'd to vengeance, rush'd amidst the foe
Rage edg'd his fword, and frengthen'd every
blow.

539

535

Once more bold Teucer, in his country's caue, At Hector's breaft a chofen arrow draws; And had the weapon found the deftin'd way, Thy fall, great Trojan! had renown'd that day. But Hector was not doom'd to perifh then: 549 Th' all-wife Difpofer of the fates of men Imperial Jove) his prefent death withstands; Nor was fuch glory due to Teucer's hands. At its full ftretch as the tough ftring he drew, Struck by an arm unken, it burft in two;

Strong to impel the flight of many a dart.

550

Shall find its match-no more: 'tis ours to fight.
Then Teucer laid his faithless bow afide;
The four-fold buckler o'er his shoulders ty'd; 565
On his brave head a crefled helm he plac'd,
With nodding horfe-hair formidably grac'd;
A dart, whole point with brafs refulgent shines,
The warrior wields: and his great brother joins.
This Hector faw, and thus exprefs'd his joy: 570
Ye troops of Lycia, Dardanus, and Troy!
Be mindful of yourselves, your ancient fame,
And fpread your glory with the navy's flame.
Jove is with us; I faw his hand, but now,
From the proud archer ftrike his vaunted bow. 575
Indulgent Jove! how plain thy favours fhine,
When happy nations bear the marks divine!
How eafy then, to fee the finking state
Of realms accurft, deferted, reprobate!
Such is the fate of Greece, and fuch is ours.
Behold, ye warriors, and exert your powers.
Death is the worft; a fate which all must try;
And, for our country, 'tis a blifs to die.
The gallant man, though flain in fight he be,
Yet leaves his nation fafe, his children free; 585
Entails a debt on all the grateful state;
His own brave friends fhall glory in his fate;
His wife live honour'd, all his race fucceed;
And late pofterity enjoy the deed!

580

595

This rouz'd the foul in every Trojan breast. 590 The godlike Ajax next his Greeks addreft: How long, ye warriors of the Argive race (To generous Argos what a dire difgrace! How long, on thefe curs'd confines will ye lie, Yet undetermin'd, or to live or die! What hopes remain, what methods to retire, If once your veffels catch the Trojan fire? Mark how the flames approach, how near they fall, How Hector calls, and Troy obeys his call! Not to the dance that dreadful voice invites, It calls to death, and all the rage of fights. 'Tis now no time for wifdom or debates; To your own hands are trufted all your fates; And better far, in one decifive ftrife,

600

One day should end our labour, or our life; 605 Than keep this hard-got inch of barren fands, Still prefs'd, and prefs'd by fuch inglorious hands. The liftening Grecians feel their leader's flame; And every kindling bofom pants for fame,

615

By Hector here the Phocian Schedius dy'd ; ·
There, pierc'd by Ajax, funk Laodamas,
Chief of the foot, of old Antenor's race.
Polydamas laid Otus on the fand,
The fierce commander of th' Epean band,
His lance bold Meges at the victor threw;
The victor, stooping, from the death withdrew,
(Tha. valued life, O Phoebus, was thy care);
But Crafmus' bofom took the flying spear:
His corpfe fell bleeding on the flippery fhore; 620
His radiant arms triumphant Meges bore.
Dolops, the fon of Lampus, ruthes on,
Sprung from the race of old Laomedon,
And fam'd for prowess in a well-fought field;
He pierc'd the centre of his founding shield: 625
But Meges Phyleus' ample breaft-plate wore
(Well-known in fight on Scles' winding shore
For king Euphetes gave the golden mail,
Compact, and firm with many a jointed fcale);
Which oft, in cities ftorm'd, and battles won, 630
Had fav'd the father, and now faves the fon.
Full at the Trojan's head he urg'd his lance,
Where the high plumes above the helmet dance,
New ting'd with Tyrian dye: in dust below,
Shorn from the creft, the purple honours glow,

635

Mean time their fight the Spartan king survey'd,
And ftood by Meges' fide, a fudden aid,
Through Dolops' fhoulder urg'd his forceful dart,
Which held its paffage through the panting heart,
And iffued at his breast, With thundering found
640

The warrior falls, extended on the ground.
In rush the conquering Greeks to spoil the flain:
But Hector's voice excites his kindred train ;
The hero moft, from Hicetaon sprung,
Fierce Melanippus, gallant, brave, and young. 645
He (ere to Troy the Grecians crofs'd the main)
Fed his large oxen on Percote's plain;
But when, opprefs'd, his country claim'd his care,
Return'd to Ilion, and excell'd in war;
For this, in Priam's court, he held his place, 650
Belov'd no less than Priam's royal race.
Him Hector fingled, as his troops he led,
And thus inflam'd him, pointing to the dead:
Lo, Melanippus ! lo where Dolops lies;
And is it thus our royal kinsman dies;
O'ermatch'd he falls; to two at once a prey,
And lo! they bear the bloody arms away!
Come on-a diftant war no longer ware,
But hand to hand thy country's foes engage,
Till Greece at once, and all her glory end,
Or Ilion from her towery height defcend,
Heav'd from the lowelt ftone; and bury all
In one fad fepulchre, one common fall.

655

660

Hector (this faid) ruth'd forward on the foes: With equal ardour Melanippus glows: 665 Then Ajax thus-Oh Greeks! refpect your fane, Refpect yourselves, and learn an honeft fhame: Let mutual reverence mutual warmth inspire, And catch from breast to breast the noble fire. On valour's fide the odds of combat lie, The brave live glorious, or lamented die; The wretch that trembles in the field of fame, Meets death, and worse than death, eternal shame

670