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The Power of Ocean firft: Forbear thy fear,
O fon of Peleus! Lo, thy Gods appear!
Behold from Jove defcending to thy aid
Propitious Neptune, and the blue-ey'd Maid. 335
Stay, and the furious flood fhall cease to rave:
Tis not thy fate to glut his angry wave.
But thou, the counsel Heaven fuggefts, attend!
Nor breathe from combat, nor thy fword fufpend,
Till Troy receive her flying fons, till all 340
Her routed fquadrons pant behind their wall;
Hector alone fhall stand his fatal chance,
And Hedor's blood fhall fmoke upon thy lance.
Thine is the glory doon'd. Thus fpake the Gods:
Then fwift afcended to the bright abodes.
Stung with new ardour, thus by Heaven impell'd,
He fprings impetuous, and invades the field:
O'er all th'expanded plain the waters spread;
Heap'd on the bounding billows dance the dead,
Floating 'midft fcatter'd arms; while cafques of
gold
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And turn'd-up bucklers glitter'd as they roll'd.
High o'er the furging tide, by leaps and bounds,
He wades and mounts; the parted wave resounds.
Not a whole river ftops the hero's course,
While Pallas fills him with immortal force.
With equal rage, indignant Xanthus roars,
And lifts his billows, and o'erwhelms his fhores.
Then thus to Simoïs: Hafte, my brother flood!
And check this mortal, that controls a God;
Our braveft heroes elfe fhall quit the fight,
And lion tumble from her towery height.
Call then thy fubject ftreams, and bid them roar,
From all thy fountains fwell thy watery ftore,
With broken rocks, and with a load of dead,
Charge the black furge, and pour it on his head, 365
Mark how refiflefs through the floods he goes,
And boldly bids the warring Gods be foes!
But nor that force, nor form divine to fight,
Shall aught avail him, if our rage unite:
Whelm'd under our dark gulfs thofe arms fhall lie,
That blaze fo dreadful in each Trojan eye;
And deep beneath a fandy mountain hurl'd,
Immers'd remain this terror of the world.
Such ponderous ruin fhall confound the place,
No Greek shall e'er his perish'd relicks grace,
No hand his bones fhall gather, or inhume;
Thefe his cold rites, and this his watery tomb.
He faid; and on the chief defcends amain,
Increas'd with gore, and fwelling with the flain.
Then murmuring from his beds, he boils, he

raves,

And a foam whitens on the purplewaves: At every step, before Achilles ftood

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The crimson furge, and delug'd him with blood. Fear touch'd the Queen of Heaven: fhe faw difmay'd;

She call'd aloud, and fummon'd Vulcan's aid. 385
Rife to the war! th' infulting flood requires
Thy wafteful arm: affemble all thy fires!
While to their aid, by our command enjoin'd,
Rush the fwift eaftern and the western wind.
These from eld Ocean at my word fhall blow. 390
Pour the red torrent on the watery foe,
Corpfes and arms to one bright ruin turn,
And hiffing rivers to their bottoms burn.
Go, mighty in thy rage! difplay thy power, [400
Drink the whole flood, the crackling trees devour.

Scorch all the banks! and (till our voice reclaim Exert th' unwearied furies of the flame!

The Power ignipotent her word obeys:
Wide o'er the plain he pours the boundless blaze;
At once confumes the dead, and dries the foil, 405
And the fhrunk waters in their channel boil.
As when autumnal Boreas fweeps the sky,
And inftant blows the water'd gardens dry:
So lok'd the field, fo whiten'd was the ground,
While Vulcan breath'd the fiery blaft around. 410
Swift on the fedgy reeds the ruin preys;
Along the margin winds the running blaze:
The trees in flaming rows to afhes turn,
The flowery lotus and the tamarisk burn,
Broad elm, and cypress rifing in a fpire;
The watery willows hifs before the fire.
Now glow the waves, the fifhes pant for breath,
The eels lie twifting in the pangs of death:
Now flounce aloft, now dive, the fcaly fry,
Or, gafping, turn their bellies to the sky.
At length the river rear'd his languid head,
And thus, fhort-panting, to the God he said:
Oh, Vulcan! oh! what power refifts thy might?
I faint, I fink, unequal to the fight-

I yield-Let Ilion fall, if Fate decree;
Ah, bend no more thy fiery arms on me!

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His warm entreaty touch'd Saturnia's ear : She bade th' Ignipotent his rage forbear, Recall the flame, nor in a mortal caufe Infeft a God: th' obedient flame withdraws: 45° Again, the branching streams begin to fpread, And foft re-murmur in their wonted bed.

While thefe by Juno's will the ftrife refign, The warring Gods in fierce contention join: Re-kindling rage each heavenly breaft alarms; 455 With horrid clangor fhock'd th' ætherial arms: Heaven in loud thunder bids the trumpet found; And wide beneath them groans the rending

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The impious hand Tydides' javelin bore,
And midly bath'd it in celeftial gore.

Helpoke, and frote the lond-refounding fhield,
Which bears Jove's thunder on its dreadful field;
The adamantine ægis of her fire,
471

That turns the glancing holt and forked fire.
Then heav'd the Goddess in her mighty hand
Aftone the limit of the neighbouring land,
There fix'd from eldest times; black, craggy, vaft,
This at the heavenly homicide the caft. 476
Thundering he fatis, a mass of monftrous size;
And feven broad acres covers as he lies.
The funning froke his stubborn nerves unbound;
Loud o'er the fields his ringing arms refound: 480
The fornful dame her conqueft views with fmiles,
And, glorying, thus the proftrate God reviles:

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Mad as he was, he threaten'd fervile bands,
And doom'd us exiles far in barbarous lands,
Incens'd, we heavenward fled with fwifteft wing,
And deftin'd vengeance on the perjur'd king. "535
Doft thou, for this, afford proud liion grace,
And not, like us, infeft the faithless race;
Like us, their prefent, future fons destroy,
And from its deep foundations heave their Troy?
Apollo thus: To combat for mankind,
540
fuirs the wifdom of celeftial mind:
For what is man? Calamitous by birth,
They owe their life and nourishment to earth;
Like yearly leaves, that, now with beauty crown'd,
Smile on the fun; now wither on the ground. 545
To their own hands commit the frantic fcene,
Nor mix immortals in a cause so mean.

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Then trins his face, far-beatning heavenly fires,
And from the fenior Power fubmifs retires:
Him, thes retreating, Artemis upbraids,
The quiver'd huatrefs of the fylvan fhades:
And is it thus the youthful Phoebus flies,
And yields to Ocean's hoary Sire the prize?
How vain that martial pomp and dreadful fhow
Of pointed arrows, and the filver bow!
Now boaft no more, in yon celeftial bower,
Thy force can match the great earth-fhaking
Power.

555

Halt thou not yet, infatiare fury! known How far Afinerva's force tranfcends thy own? Juno, whom thou rebellious dar'it withstand, Correels thy folly thus by Fallas' hand; Thus meets thy broken faith with juft difgrace, And partial aid to Troy's perfidious race. The God defs (poke, and turn'd her eyes away, That, beaming round, diffus'd celestial day, Jove's Cy prian daughter, stooping on the land, Lent to the wounded God her tender hand: Slowly he rifes, fcarcely breathes with pain, And, propt on her fair arm, forfakes the plain. Silent, he heard the Queen of Woods upbraid: This the bright Empress of the heavens furvey'd. Not fo Saturnia bore the vaunting maid; And, fcoffing thus, to War's victorious Maid. 496 But furions thus: What infolence has driven 560 Lo! what an aid on Mars's fide is feen! Thy pride to face the Majefty of Heaven? The Smiles and Love's unconquerable Queen! What though, by Jove the female pla que defign'd, Mark with what infolence. in open view, Fierce to the feeble race of woman-kind, She moves: let Pallas, if foe dares, purfue. The wretched matron feels thy piercing dart; Minerva fmiling heard, the pair o'ertook, Thy fex's tyrant, with a tyger's heart? And flightly on her breast the wanton strook : What though, tremendous in the wood and chate, She, unrefifting, fell (her fpirits fed); Thy certain arrows pierce the favage race? On earth together lay the lovers fpread; How dares thy rafhnefs on the Powers divine And like thefe heroes, be the fate of all Employ thofe arms, or match thy force with mine? Minerva cries) who guard the Trojan wall! Learn hence, no more unequal war to wage-570 To Grecian Gods fuch let the Phrygians be, She faid, and feiz'd her wrifts with eager rage; So dread, fo fierce, as Venus is to me; Thefe in her left hand lock'd, her right unty'd Then from the loweft ftone fhall Troy be mov'd-The bow, the quiver, and its plumy pride.

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Thus fhe; and Juno with a smile approv'd. 510
Mean time, to mix in more than mortal fight,
The God of Ocean dares the God of Light:
What floth hath feiz'd us, when the fields around
Ring with conflicting powers, and heaven returns

the found?

515

Shall, ignominious, we with fhame retire,
No deed perform'd, to our Olympian Sire?
Come, prove thy arm for firit the war to wage,
Suits not my greatnefs, or fuperior age:
Rafh as thou art to prop the Trojan throne
Forgetful of my wrongs, and of thy own) 520
And guard the race of proud Laomedon!
Haft thou forgot how, at the monarch's prayer,
We fhar'd the lengthen'd labours of a year?
Troy's wall I rais'd (for fuch were Jove's com-
mands)
[525
And yon proud bulwarks grew beneath my hands:
Thy task it was to feed the bellowing droves
Along fair Ida's vales and pendent groves.
But when the circling feafons in their train
Brought back the grateful day that crown'd our
With menace ftern the fraudfui king defy'd Epain,
Our latent Godhead, and the prize deny'd:
531

YOL. VI,

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About her temples flies the bufy bow:
Now here, now there, the winds her from the biow;
The scattering arrows, rattling from the cafe,
Drop round, and idly mark the deity place.
Swift from the field the baffled huntrels flies,
And scarce retains the torrent in her eyes:
So, when the falcon wings her way above,
To the cleft cavern fpeeds the gentle dove,
(Not fated yet to die) there fafe retreats,
Yet ftill her heart against the marble beats.

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To her Latona haftes with tender care,
Whom Hermes viewing, thus declines the war:
How fhall I face the dame, who gives delight
To him whofe thunders blacken heaven with night?
Go, matchlefs Goddefs' triumph in the ikio,

And boat my conqueft, while I yield the prize.

He fpoke; and pait : Latona, ftooping inw, 590
Collects the fcatter'd haits, and fallen bow.
That, glittering on the duft, lay here and there;
Dishonour'd relicks of Diana's war.
Then fwift purfued her to the blest zbode, [595
Where all-coufus'd be fought the Severen God,
Weeping the grafp'd his knees: th'auto dal vele
Shook with her fighs, and panted on her bratt.

X

The Sire fuperior fmil'd; and bade her show What heavenly hand had caus'd his daughter's woe? Abafh'd, fie namies his own Imperial spouse; And the pale crefcent fades upon her brows. 601 Thus they above; while fwiftly gliding down, Apollo enters Ilion's facred town:

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So may I reach, conceal'd, the cooling flood,
From my tir'd body wash the dirt and blood, 665
As foon as night her dufky veil extends,
Return in fafety to my Trojan friends.
What if-But wherefore all this vain debate?
Stand I to doubt, within the reach of Fate?
Ev'n now perhaps, ere yet I turn the wall,
The fierce Achilles fees me, and I fall:
Such is his fwiftnefs 'tis in vain to fly,
And fuch his valour, that who ftands muft die.
Howe'er 'tis better, fighting for the ftate,
Here, and in public view, to meet my fate. 675
Yet fufe he too is mortal! he may feel
(Like all the fons of earth) the force of fleel;
One only foul informs that dreadful frame;
And Jove's fole favour gives him all his fame.

He faid, and stood collected in his might: 680 615 And all his beating bofom claim'd the fight.

The Guardian God now trembled for her wall,
And fear'd the Greeks, tho' Fate forbade her fall
Back to Olympus, from the war's alarms,.
Return the fhining bands of Gods in arms;
Some proud in triumph, fome with rage on fire;
And take their thrones around th' atherial Sire,
Thro' blood, thro' death,Achilles ftill proceeds, 610
O'er flaughter'd heroes, and o'er rolling steeds.
As when avenging flames, with fury driv'n
On guilty towns, exert the wrath of Heaven;
The pale inhabitants, fome fall, fome fly;
And the red vapours purple all the sky:
So rag'd Achilles; death and dire difmay;
And toils, and terrors, fill'd the dreadful day.
High on a turret hoary Priam ftands,
And marks the waste of his deftructive hands;
Views, from his arm, the Trojan's fcatter'd flight,
And the near hero rifing on his fight!
No step, no check, no aid! With feeble pace,
And fettled forrow on his aged face,
Fast as he could, he fighing quits the walls;
And thus, defcending, on the guards he calls: 625
You, to whofe care our city-gates belong,
Set wide your portals to the flying throng:
For lo! he comes with unrefifted fway;
He comes, and defolation marks his way!
But when within the walls our troops take breath,
Lock faft the brazen bars, and fhut out death.
Thus charg'd the reverend monarch: wide were
flung

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[630

The opening folds; the founding hinges rung,
Phoebus rufh'd forth, the flying bands to meet;
Struck flaughter back, and cover'd the retreat, 635
On heaps the Trojans crowd to gain the gate,
And, gladfome, fee their laft escape from Fate.
Thither, all parch'd with thirft, a heartlefs train,
Hoary with duft, they beat the hollow plain :
And gafping, panting, fainting, labour on 640
With heavier ftrides, that lengthen'd tow'rd the
Enrag'd Achilles follows with his fpear; [town.
Wild with revenge, infatiable of war.

645

Then had the Greeks eternal praise acquir'd, And Troy inglorious to her walls retir'd; But the, the God who darts ætherial flame, Shot down to fave her, and redeem her fame. To young Agenor force divine he gave (Antenor's offspring, haughty, bold, and brave); In aid of him, befide the beech he fate, 650 And, wrapt in clouds, reftrain'd the hand of Fate. When now the generous youth Achilles fpies, Thick beats his heart, the troubled motions rife. (So, ere a storm, the waters heave and roll); He ftops and questions thus his mighty foul: What! fhall I fly this terror of the plain? Like others fly, and be like others flain? Vain hope! to fhun him by the self-fame road, Yon line of flaughter'd Trojans lately trod. No: with the common heap I fcorn to fall- 660 What if they pass'd me to the Trojan wall, While I decline to yonder path, that leads To Ida's forefts and furrounding fhades? † Apollo.

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So from fome deep-grown wood a panther starts,
Rous'd from his thicket by a form of darts:
Untaught to fear or fly, he hears the founds [685
Of shouting hunters, and of clamorous hounds:
Tho' ftruck, tho' wounded fcarce perceives the
pain;

And the barb'd javelin stings his breast in vain :
On their whole war, untam'd the favage flics;
And tears his hunter, or beneath him dies.
Not lefs refolv'd, Antenor's valiant heir
690
Confronts Achilles, and awaits the war,
Difdainful of retreat: high-held before,
His fhield, (a broad circumference) he bore;
Then, graceful, as he stood in act to throw
The lifted javelin, thus bespoke the foe:

695

How proud Achilles glories in his fame! And hopes this day to fink the Trojan name Beneath her ruins! Know, that hope is vain; A thoufand woes, a thousand toils, remain. Parents and children our juft arms employ, 700 And strong, and many, are the fons of Troy. Great as thou art, ev'n thou may'ft flain with gore Thefe Phrygian fields, and prefs a foreign fhore.

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He faid: with matchlefs force the javelin flung Smote on his knee; the hollow cuifhes rung 75 Beneath the pointed fteel; but fafe from harms He ftands impaffive in the aetherial arms. Then, fiercely rufhing on the daring foe, His lifted arm prepares the fatal blow: But, jealous of his fame, Apollo shrouds The godlike Trojan in a veil of clouds. Safe from purfuit, and fhut from mortal view, Difmifs'd with fame the favour'd youth withdrew. Mean while the God, to cover their escape, Affumes Agenor's habit, voice and fhape, Flies from the furious chief in this disguise; The furious chief ftill follows where he flies. Now o'er the fields they ftretch with lengthen'd ftrides, (glides: Now urge the courfe where fwift Scamander The God, now diftant fcarce a ftride before, 720 Tempts his purfuit, and wheels about the fhore; While all the flying troops their speed employ, And pour on heaps into the walls of Troy: No ftop, no ftay; no thought to afk, or tell, Who fcap'd by flight, or who by battle fell. 725 'Twas tumult all, and violence of flight; And fudden joy confus'd, and mix'd affright: Pale Troy against Achilles fhuts her gate; And nations breathe, deliver'd from their fate.

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The Trojans being fafe within the walls, H-&tor only flays to oppofe Achilles. Priam is firuck at bis approach, and tries to perfuade bis fon to re-enter the town. Hecuba joins ber entreaties, but in vain. Hector confults within himself what measures to take ; but, at the advance of Achilles, bis refolution fails him, and he flies : Achilles purfues bim thrice round the walls of Troy. The Gods debate cortorning the fate of Hector; at length Minerva difcends to the aid of Achilles. Sb: deludes Hector in the feape of Driplobus; be flands the combat, and is flain. Achilles drags the dead body at bis chariot, in the fight of Priam and Hecuba. Their lamentations, tears, and defpair. Their cries reach the cars of Andromache, rabo, ignorant of this, was retired into the inner part of the palace; fhe mounts up to the walls, and beholds ber dead husband. Sb frooms at the fpe&tacle. Her excefs of grief and lamentation.

The thirtieth day fill continues. The fcene lies under the walls and on the battlements of Troy.

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HUS to their bulwarks, finit with panic fear,
The herded Ilions rufh like driven deer;
There fafe, they wipe their briny drops away,
And drown in bowls the labours of the day..
Clofe to the walls, advancing o'er the fields
Beneath one roof of well-compacted fhields,
March, bending on, the Greek's embodied powers,
Far-tretching in the shade of Trojan towers.
Great Hector fingly ftaid; chain'd down by Fate,
There fixt he food before the Scæan gate;
Still his bold arms determin'd to employ,
The guardian ftill of long-defended Troy.
Apollo now to tir'd Achilles turns
(The Power confeft in all his glory burns).
And what (he cries) has Peleus' fon in view,
With mortal speed a Godhead to purfue?
For not to thee to know the Gods is given,
Unfkill'd to trace the latent marks of Heaven.
What boots thee now, that Troy forfook the plain?
Vain thy paft labour, and thy prefent vain : 20
Safe in their walls are now her troops bestow'd,
While here thy frantic rage attacks a God.

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15 And bloody dogs grow fiercer from thy gore.
How many valiant fons I late enjoy'd,
Valiant in vain! by thy curft arm deftroy'd: 60
Or, worse than flaughter'd, fold in diftant ifles
To fhameful bondage and unworthy toils.
Two, while I fpeak, my eyes in vain explore,
Two from one mother fprung, my Polydore,
And lov'd Lycaon; now perhaps no more! 65.
Oh! if in yonder hoftile camp they live,
What heaps of gold, what treasures, would I give!
(Their grandfire's wealth, by right of birth their

25

own,

30

Confign'd his daughter with Lelegia's throne);
But if (which Heaven forbid) already loft,
All pale they wander on the Stygian coast,
What forrows then must their fad mother know,
What anguish 1! unutterable woe!

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The chief incens'd-Too partial God of Day:
To check my conquefts in the middle way:
How few in Ilion cife had refuge found!
What gafping numbers now had bit the ground!
Thou robb'ft me of a glory justly mine,
Powerful of Godhead, and of fraud divine:
Mean fame, alas! for one of heavenly strain,
To cheat a mortal, who repines in vain.
Then to the city terrible and ftrong,
With high and haughty steps he tower'd along.
So the proud courfer, victor of the prize,
To the near goal with double ardour flies;
Him, as he blazing fhot across the field,
The careful eyes of Priam first beheld.
Not half fo dreadful rifes to the fight,
Through the thick gloom of fome tempeftuous
night,

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Yet lefs that anguifh, lefs to her, to me,
Lefs to all Troy, if not depriv'd of thee.
Yet fhun Achilles! enter yet the wall;
35 And fpare thyfelf, thy father, fpare us all!
Save thy dear life; or, if a foul fo brave
Neglect that thought, thy dearer glory fave.
Pity, while yet I live, thefe filver hairs;
While yet thy father feels the woes he bears,
Yet curft with fenfe! a wretch whom in his rage
(All trembling on the verge of helpless age)
Great Jove has plac'd, fad fpectacle of pain!
The bitter dregs of Fortune's cup to drain :
To fill with fcenes of death his clofing eyes,
And number all his days by miferies!

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Orion's dog (the year when autumn weighs)
And o'er the feebler stars exerts his rays;
Terrific glory! for his burning breath
Taints the red air with fevers, plagues, and death.
So flam'd his fiery mail. Then wept the fage;
He strikes his reverend head, now white with age;

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My heroes flain, my bridal bed o'erturn'd,
My daughters ravifh'd, and my city bura'd:
My bleeding infants dafh'd against the floor;
Thefe I have yet to fee, perhaps yet more!
Perhaps ev'n I, referv'd by angry Fate
The last fad relick of my ruin'd state
(Dire pomp of fovereign wetchednefs! muft fall,
And thain the pavement of my regal hall; 95
Where famifh'd dogs, late guardians of my door,
Shall lick their mangled mafter's fpatter'd gore.
Yet 'or my fons I thank you, Gods! 'twas well;
Well have they perifh'd; for in fight they fell.
Who dies in youth and vigour, dies the belt, 100
Struck through with wounds, ail honeft, on the
breaft.

But when the Fates, in fulness of their rage,
Spurn the hoar head of unrefifting age,
In duft the reverend lineaments déform,

Or, if I perifh, let her fee me fall

In field at least, and fighting for her wall.
And yet, fuppofe these measures I forego,
Approach unarm'd, and parley with the foe, 155
The warrior-fhield, the helm, and lance, lay
down,

160

And treat on terms of peace to fave the town:
The wife withheld, the treafure ill-detain’d,
(Caufe of the war, and grievance of the land)
With honourable juftice to restore;
And add half lion's yet remaining store,
Which Troy fhall, fworn, produce; that injur'd
[peace?
May fhare our wealth, and leave our walls in
But why this thought? Unarm'd if I should go,
What hope of mercy from this vengeful foe, 165
But woman-like to fall, and fall without a
blow?

Greece

And pour to dogs the life-blood fcarcely warm; 105 We greet not here as man converfing man,
This, this is mifery! the laft, the worst,
That man can feel; man, fated to be curft!

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He faid; and, acting what no words could fay, Rent from his head the filver locks away. With him the mournful mother bears a part; Yet all their forrows turn not Hector's heart: The zone unbrac'd, her bofom the display'd; And thus, faft-falling the falt tears, the faid; Have mercy on me, O my fon! revere The words of age; attend a parent's prayer! If ever thee in thefe fond arms I preft, Or ftill'd thy infant clamours at this breaft; Ah, do not thus our helplefs years forego, But, by our walls fecur'd, repel the foe, Againft his rage if fingly thou proceed, Should't thou (but Heaven avert it!) fhould't thou bleed,

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Nor muft thy corpfe lie honour'd on the bier,
Nor fpoufe, nor mother, grace thee with a tear;
Far from our pious rites, thofe dear remains
Muft feaft the vultures on the naked plains. 125
So they; while down their cheeks the torrents
roll:

But fix'd remains the purpose of his foul;
Refolv'd he stands; and with a fiery glance'
Expects the hero's terrible advance.

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So, roll'd up in his den, the fwelling fake
Beholds the traveller approach the brake;
When, fed with noxious herbs, his turgid veins
Have gather'd half the poifons of the plains;
He burns, he ftiffens with collected ire,
And his red eye-balls glare with living fire.
Beneath a turret, on his fhield reclin'd,
He stood; and question'd thus his mighty mind:
Where lies my way? To enter in the wall?
Honour and thame th' ungenerous thought recall?
Shall proud Polydamas before the gate
Proclaim, his councils are obey'd too late;
Which timely follow'd but the former night,
What numbers had been fav'd by Hector's flight!
That wife advice rejected with difdain,
I feel my folly in my people flain.
Methinks my fuffering country's voice I hear,
But most, her worthlefs fons infult my ear;
On my rafh courage charge the chance of war,
And blame thofe virtues which they cannot share.
No-if I e'er return, return I must
Glorious, my cot,try's terror laid in duft:

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Met at an oak, or journeying o'er a plain;
No feafon now for calm familiar talk,
Like youths and maidens in an evening walk: 170
War is our bufinefs; hut to whom is given
To die or triumph, that determine Heaven!
Thus pondering, like a God the Greck drew nigh;
His dreadful plumage nodded from on high;
The Pelian javelin, in his better hand,
Shot trembling rays, that glitter'd o'er the land,
And on his breaft the beamy fplendor fhone
Like Jove's own lightning, or the rifing fun :
As Hector fees, unufual terrors rife,

175

Struck by fome God, he fears, recedes, and flies: 18c
He leaves the gates, he leaves the walls behind:
Achilles follows like the winged wind.
Thus at the panting dove a falcon flies
(The swifteft racer of the liquid fkies)
Juft when he holds, or thinks he holds, his prey,18
Obliquely wheeling through th' aerial way,
With open beak and fhrilling cries he fprings,
And aims his claws, and fhoots upon his wings.
No lefs fore-right the rapid chafe they held,
One urg'd by fury, one by fear impell'd;
Now circling round the walls their courfe maintain,
Where the high watch-tower overlooks the plain;
Now where the fig-trees fpread their umbrage
broad

190

200

(A wider compafs) fmoke along the road.
Next by Scamander's double fource they bound, 195
Where two fam'd fountains burt the parted ground;
This hot through feorching clefts is feen to rife,
With exhalations fteaming to the fkies;
That the green banks in fummer's heat o'erflows,.
Like crystal clear, and cold as winter fnows.
Each gufhing fount a marble cistern fills,
Whofe polifh'd bed receives the falling rills;
Where Trojan dames (ere yet alarm'd by Greece)
Wafh'd their fair garments in the days of peace.
By thefe they pafs'd, one chafing, one in flight 205
(The mighty fled, purfued by ftronger might).
Swift was the courfe; no vulgar prize they play,
No vulgar victim must reward the day
Such as in races crown the fpeedy ftrife).
The prize contended was great Hector's life.
As when fome hero's funerals are decreed,
In grateful honour of the mighty dead;
Where high rewards the vigorous youth inflame
(Some golden tripod or foaie lovely dame);

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