Th' impetuous torrents from their hills obey,
Whole fields are drown'd, and mountains fwept

away;

Loud roars the deluge till it meets the main ;
And trembling man fees all his labours vain. 475
And now the chief (the foremost troops repell'd
Back to the ships his deftin'd progress held,
Bore down half Troy in his refiftless way,
And forc'd the routed ranks to ftand the day..
Between the space where filver Simois flows, 480
Where lay the fleets, and where the rampires
rofe,

All grim in duft and blood, Patroclus stands,
And turns the flaughter on the conquering bands.
First Pronous died beneath his fiery dart,
Which pierced below the shield his valiant heart. 485
Theftor was next; who law the chief appear,
And fell the victim of his coward fear;
Shrunk-up he fat, with wild and haggard eye,
Nor ftood to combat, nor had force to fly;
Patroclus mark'd him as he hunn'd the war.
And with unmanly tremblings fhook the car, 490
And dropp'd the flowing reins. Him 'twixt the

jaws

The javelin fticks, and from the chariot draws.
As on a rock that over hangs the main,
An angler, ftudious of the line and cane,
Some mighty fish draws panting to the shore; 495
Not with lefs ease the barbed javelin bore
The gaping daftard: as the fpear was thook,
He fell, and life his heartlefs breaft forfook.
Next on Eryalus he flies; a tone,
Large as a rock, was by his fury thrown :
Full on his crown the ponderous fragment flew,
And burst the helm, and cleft the head in two:
Prone to the ground the breathless warrior fell,
And death involv'd him with the fhades of heil.
Then low in duft Epaltes, Echius lie;
Ipheas, Evippus, Polymelus, die;
Amphoterus, and Erymas fucceed;
And latt Tlepolemus and Pyres bleed.
Where'er he moves, the growing flaughters fpread
In heaps on heaps; a monument of dead. 510

505

515

520

When now Sarpedon his brave friends beheld
Grovelling in duft, and gasping on the fi l',
With this reproach his flying hot he warms:
Oh ftain to honour! oh difgrace to arms!
Forfake, inglorious, the contended plain;
This hand, unaided, thall the war fuftain:
The task be mine, this hero's ftrength to try,
Who mows whole troops, and makes an army ay.
He fpake; and, fpeaking, leaps from off the car;
Patroclus lights, and fernly waits the war.
As when two vultures on the mountains height
Stoop with refounding pinions to the fight;
They cuff, they tear, they raife a fcreaming cry:
The defart echogs, and the rocks reply:
The warriors thus, oppos'd in arms, engage 525
With equal clamours, and with equal rage.
Jove view'd the combat; whole event forefeen,
He thus bespoke his Sifter and his Queen :
The hour draws on; the Deftinies ordain,
My godlike fon fhall prefs the Phrygian plain:
Already on the verge of death he flands,
His life is ow'd to fierce Patroclus' hands.
What paffions in a parent's breaft debate!
Say, fhall I fnatch him from impending fate,

535

And send him safe to Lycia, diftant far
From all the dangers and the toils of war;
Or to his doom my braveft offspring yield,
And fatten with celeftial blood the field?
Then thus the Goddets with the radiant eyes:
What words are thefe? O Sovereign of th Skies! 540
Short is the date preferib'd to mortal mi
Shall Jove, for one, extend the narrow pen,
Whote bounds were fix'd before his race gan?
How many fons of Gods, foredeom'd to death,
Before proud lion mua refign their breath! 545
Were thine exempt, debate would rife above,
Add murmuring powers condemn their partial
Jove.

ह

Give the bold chief a glorious fate in fight;
And, when th' afcending foul has wing'd her
fight,

Let Slee and Death convey, by thy command, 550
The breathlefs body to his native land.
His friends and people, to his future praife,
A marble tomb and pyramid fhall raife,
And lafting honours to Lis afhes give;
His fame (tis all the dead can have) fhall live. 555
She faid; the Cloud-con peller, overcone,
Affents to faite, and ratifics the doom.
(till'd
Then, touch'd with grief, the weeping heavens dif-
A flower of blood o'er all the fatal field :
The God, his eyes averting from the plain 5601
Laments his fon, predeftin'd to be flain,
Far from the Lycian thores, his happy native

reign.

5607

Now met in arms, the combatants appear,
Each heav'd the fhield, and pois'd the Afted fpear:
From ftiong Patroclus' hand the javelin fled, 505
And pafs'd the groin of valiant Thrafymed;
the nerves unbic'd, no more his bulk futain,
He falls, and falling bites the bloody plain.
Two founding darts the Lycian leader threw;
The first aloof with ersing fury flew,
The next tranfpierc'd Achilles' mortal ftced,
The generous Pedafus of Thehan breed;
Fix'd in the fhoulder's joint, he feel'd around,
Roll d in the bloody duft, and paw'd the flippery

ground.

His fudden fall th' entangled harness broke; 575
Each axie crackled, and the chariot shook:
When bold Automedon, to difengage

The ftarting courfers, and reftrain their rage,
Divides the traces with his fword, and freed
T'h' incumber'd chariot from the dying feed :585
The reft move on, obedient to the rein;
The car rolls flowly o'er the dufty plain.

The towering chiefs to fiercer fights advance.
And firtt Sarpedon whirl'd his weighty lance, [585
Which o'er the warrior's fhoulder took its court,
And spent in empty air its dying force.
Not fo Patroclus' never-erring dart :
Aim'd at his breast, it piere'd the mortal
Where the strong fibres bind the folid heart;
then, as the mountain oak, or poplar tall,
Or pine, (it maft for fome great admiral
Nods to the axe, till with a groaning found
530It finks, and fpreads its honours on the ground;

part,

Thus fell the king; and, laid on earth fupine,
Before his chariot ftretch'd his form divine: 595
He grafp'd the duft difdain'd with ftreaming gore,
And, pale in death, lay groaning on the hole.

605

So lies a bull beneath the lien's paws,
While the grim favage grinds with foamy jaws
The trembling limbs, and fucks the fmoking
blood;
600[the wood.
Deep groans, and hollow roars, re-bellow through
Then to the leader of the Lycian band,
The dying chief addrefs'd his laft command:
Glaucus, be bold; thy taik be firft to dare
The glorious dangers of deftructive war,
To lead my troops, to conibat at their head,
In cite the living, and fupply the dead.
Tell them, I charg'd them with my latest breath
Not unreveng'd to bear Sarpedon's death.
What grief, what shame, must Glaucus undergo,610
If thefe fpoil'd arms adorn a Grecian foe!
Then as a friend, and as a warrior, fight;
Defend my body, conquer in my right;
That, taught by great examples, all may try
Like thee to vanquish, or like me to die

615

He ceas'd; the Fates fupprefs'd his labouring
breath,

And his eyes darken'd with the fhades of death.
Th' infuiting victor with difdain beftrode
The proftrate prince, and on his bofom trod;
Then drew the weapon from his panting heart,620
The recking fibres clinging to the dart;

From the wide wound guth'd out a ftream of
blood,

Those generous friends, whò, from their country
far,
660

Breathe their brave souls out in another's war.
See! where in duft the great Sarpedon lies,
In action valiant, and in council wife,
Who guarded right, and kept his people free;
To all his Lycians loft, and loft to thee!
665
Stretch'd by Patroclus' arm on yonder plains,
O fave from hoftile rage his lov'd remains:
Ah let not Greece his conquer'd trophies boast,
Nor on his coft revenge her heroes loft.

He fpoke; each leader in his grief partook, 670
Troy, at the lofs, through all her legions fhook.
Transfix'd with deep regret, they view o'erthrown
At once his country's pillar, and their own;
A chief, who led to Troy's beleaguer'd wall
A host of heroes, and out-fhin'd them all.
Fir'd they rush on; first Hector feeks the foes,
And with fuperior vengeance greatly glows.

675

685

But o'er the dead the fierce Patroclus ftands,
And, rouzing Ajax, rouz'd the liftening bands:
Heroes, be men! be what you were before; 68€
Or weigh the great occafion, and be more.
The chief who taught our lofty walls to yield,
Lies pale in death, extended on the field."
To guard his body, Troy in numbers flies;
'Tis half the glory to maintain our prize.
Hafte, ftrip his arms, the flaughter round him
And fend the living Lycians to the dead. [fpread,
The heroes kindle at his fierce command;
625 The martial squadrons close on either hand :
Here Troy and Lycia charge with loud alarms, 690
Theffalia there, and Greece, oppose their arms.
With horrid fhouts they circle round the flain;
The clash of armour rings o'er all the plain.
Great Jove, to fwell the horrors of the fight,
O'er the fierce armies pours pernicious night; 695
And round his fon confounds the warring hosts,
His fate ennobling with a crowd of ghosts.

630

And the foul iffued in the purple flood.
'His flying fteeds the Myrmidons detain,
Unguided now, their mighty mafter flain.
All-impotent of aid, transfix'd with grief,
Unhappy Glaucus heard the dying chief.
His painful arm, yet useless with the fmart
Inflicted late by Teucer's deadly dart,
Supported on his better hand he stay'd;
To Phoebus then, ('twas all he could) he pray'd
All-feeing monarch! whether Lycia's coaft,
'Or facred Ilion, thy bright prefence boast,
Powerful alike to cafe the wretch's fmart!
O hear me ! God of every healing art!
Lo! ftiff with clotted blood, and pierc'd with
pain,

635

640

That thrills my arm, and fhoots thro' every vein,
I ftand, unable to fuftain the spear,
And figh, at diftance from the glorious war.
Low in the dust is great Sarpedon laid,
Nor Jove vouchfaf'd his hapless offspring aid.
But thou, O God of Health! thy fuccour lend,
To guard the reliques of my flaughtered friend.
For thou, though diftant, canft reftore my might,
To head my Lycians, and support the fight. 645
Apollo heard; and, fuppliant as he stood,
His heavenly hand restrain'd the flux of blood:
He drew the dolours from the wounded part,
And breath'd a spirit in his rifing heart:
Renew'd by art divine, the hero stands,
And owns th' affiftance of immortal hands.
First to the fight his native troops he warms,
Then loudly calls on Troy's vindictive arms;
With ample strides he ftalks from place to place;
Now fires Agenor, now Polydamas;
neas next, and Hector, he accosts;

Now Greece gives way, and great Epigeus falls;
Agaclens' fon, from Budium's lofty walls:
Who, chas'd for murder thence, a suppliant came 700
To Peleus and the filver-footed dame;
Now fent to Troy, Achilles' arms to aid,
He pays due vengeance to his kinsman's shade.
Soon as his lucklefs hand had touch'd the dead,
A rock's large fragment thunder'd on his head;,705
Hurl'd by Hectorean force, it cleft in twain
His fhatter'd helm, and stretch'd him o'er the
flain,

Fierce to the van of fight Patroclus came;
And, like an eagle darting at his game,
Sprung on the Trojan and the Lycian band; 710
What grief thy heart, what fury urg'd thy hand,
Oh generous Greck! when with full vigour thrown
At Sthenelaüs flew the weightyne,
Which funk him to the dead: when Troy, too
(715

650

near

655

Inflaming thus the rage of all their hofts: What thoughts, regardlefs chief thy employ?

breaft

Oh too forgetful of the friends of Troy!

That arm, drew back; and Hector learn'd to fear.
Far as an able hand a lance can throw,
Or at the lifts, or at the fighting foe;
So far the Trojans from their lines retir'd;
Till Glaucus, turning, all the rest inspir'd.
Then Bathyclaus fell beneath his rage,
The only hope of Chalcon's trembling age:
Wide o'er the land was ftretch'd his large domain,
With stately feats, and riches, bleft in vain:

720

Then funk Pylartes to eternal night;
The reft, difperfing, truft their fates to flight. 855
Now Troy had ftoop'd beneath his matchlefs

power,

[860

870

Stern Hector faftens on the warrior's head,
And by the foot Patroclus drags the dead.
While all around, confufion, rage, and fright, 920
Mix the contending hosts in mortal fight.
So pent by hills, the wild winds roar aloud
In the deep bofom of fome gloomy wood;
Leaves, arms, and trees, aloft in air are blown,
The broad oaks crackle, and the Sylvans groan; 925
This way and that the rattling thicket bends,
And the whole foreft in one crash defcends.
Not with lefs noife, with lefs tumultuous rage,
In dreadful fhock the mingled hofts engage.
Darts fhower'd on darts, now round the carcafe
ring;
980

Now flights of arrows bounding from the string:
Stones follow ftones; fome clatter on the fields,
Some, hard and heavy, shake the founding fhields.
But where the rifing whirlwind clouds the
plains,

Sunk in foft duft the mighty chief remains, 935
And, ftretch'd in death, forgets the guiding
reins!

Now, flaming from the zenith, Sol had driven His fervid orb through half the vault of heaven; While, on each hoft with equal tempest fell

The fhowering darts, and numbers funk to hell. 940 But when his evening wheels o'erhung the main, 880 Glad conqueft rested on the Grecian train.

But flaming Phoebus kept the facred tower.
Thrice at the battlements Patroclus ftrook,
His blazing ægis thrice Apollo fhook:
Hetry'd the fourth; when bursting from the cloud,
A more than mortal voice was heard aloud:
Patroclus! ceafe; this heaven-defended wall
Defies thy lance; not fated yet to fall;
Thy friend, thy greater far, it fhall withstand:
Troy fhall not stoop ev'n to Achilles' hand. 865
So fpoke the God who darts celeftial fires;
The Greek obeys him, and with awe retires :
While Hector, checking at the Scæan gates
His panting courfers, in his breast debates,
Or in the field his forces to employ,
Or draw the troops within the walls of Troy.
Thus while he thought, befide him Phœbusftood,
In Afius' fhape, who reign'd by Sangar's flood;
(Thy brother, Hecuba! from Dymas fprung,
A valiant warrior, haughty, bold, and young.) 875
Thus he accofts him: What a fhameful fight!
Gods! is it Hector that forbears the fight?
Were thine my vigour, this fuccessful spear
Should foon convince thee of fo falfe a fear.
Turn then, ah turn thee to the field of fame,
And in Patroclus' blood efface thy fhame.
Perhaps Apollo fhall thy arms fucceed,
And Heaven ordains him by thy lance to bleed.
So fpoke th' infpiring God; then took his flight,
And plunged amidst the tumult of the fight.
Ke bids Cebrion drive the rapid car;
The lafh refounds, the courfers rush to war:
The God the Grecians' finking fouls depreft,
And pour'd fwift fpirits through each Trojan breaft.
Patroclus lights, impatient for the fight; 890
Afpear his left, a ftone employs his right:
With all his nerves he drives it at the foe;
Pointed above, and rough and grofs below:
The falling ruin crufh'd Cebrion's head,
The lawless offspring of king Priam's bed;
His front, brows, eyes, one undiftinguifh'd wound:
The burfling balls drop fightless to the ground.
The charioteer, while yet he held the rein,
Struck from the car, falls headlong on the plain.
To the dark shades the foul unwilling glides; 900
While the proud victor thus his fall derides:
Good heavens! what active feats yon artift
fhows!

What fkilful divers are our Phrygian foes!
Mark with what ease they fink into the fand!
Pity that all their practice is by land!

885

895

905

Then, rufhing forward on his proftrate prize,
To fpoil the carcafe fierce Patroclus flies:
Swift as a lion, terrible and bold,
That fweeps the fields, depopulates the fold;
Piere'd through the dauntless heart, then
bles flain;

945

Then, from amidst the tumult and alarms,
They draw the conquer'd coffe, and radiant arms,
Then rafh Patroclus with new fury glows,
And, breathing flaughter, pours amid the focs.
Thrice on the prefs, like Mars himself, he flew,
And thrice three heroes at each onset flew.
There ends thy glory! there the Fates antwine
The laft, black remnant of fo bright a line; 950
Apollo dreadful ftops the middle way;
Death calls, and Heaven allows no longer day!

For lo! the God, in dufky clouds enthrin'd,
Approaching dealt a ftaggering blow behind.
The weighty shock his neck and fhoulders feel; 955
His eyes flash fparkles, his stunn'd fenfes reel
In giddy darkness: far to distance flung,
His bounding helmet on the champain rung.
Achilles' plume is ftain'd with duft and gore, [960
That plume, which never stoop'd to earth before;
Long us'd, untouch'd, in fighting fields to fhine,
And fhade the temples of the man divine.
Jove dooms it now on Hector's helm tó nod;
Not long-for Fate purfues him, and the God.

His pear in fhivers falls: his ample fhield 965
Drops from his arm: his baldrick ftrows the field:
The corfelet his aftonish'd breaft forfakes:
Loofe is each joint: each nerve with horror shakes.
Stupid he ftares, and all-affiftless stands:
Such is the force of more than mortal hands! 970

A Dardan youth there was, well known to fame,
From Panthus fprung, Euphorbus was his name;
tum-Fam'd for the manage of the foaming horse,
910 Skill'd in the dart, and matchlefs in the courfe:

Full twenty knights he tumbled from the car, 975
While yet he learn'd his rudiments of war.
His venturous fpear firft drew the hero's gore;
He ftruck, he wounded, but he durft no more;
Nor, though difarm'd, Patroclus' fury stood;
Butfwift withdrew the long-protended wood,980
And turn'dhimfhort, and herded in thecrowd.S