Thus perish'd all the fated brood,

No more, with still-revolving toil,
Thus Eris wrought her dreadful will;

They vex a hard ungrateful soil;
When sated vengeance had its fill,

Nor plough the surges of the main,
Thersander clos'd the scene of blood.

Exchanging holy quiet for false deceitful gain. He, sprung from beauteous Argea, shone

But to these sacred seats preferrd,
The glory of Adrastrus' throne,

With gods they live, as gods rererd,
When fieree in youthful fire,

And tears are wip'd from every eye;
He rag'd around the Theban wall,

Wbile banish'd from the happy reign,
And saiu the serenfold city fall

The guilty souls in darkness lie,
A victim to his sire:

And weary out the frightful ministers of pain, From him, as from a second root,

So Heav'n decrees: the good and just, Wide speading to the lofty skies,

Who, true to life's important trust,
The sons of martial glory shoot,

Have well sustain'd the field:
And clustering chiefs on chiefs arise. Whose souls undaunted, uudismay'd,
There in the topmost boughs display'd, Nor flattering pleasure could persuade,
Great Theron sits with lustre crown'd,

Nor passions taugbt to yield;
And verdant honours bloom around,

These through the mrtal changes past,
While nations rest beneath his shade. Still listening to the heav'ııly lore,
Awake the lyre! Theron demands the lays; Find this subliine reward at last,
Yet all too low! Call forth a nobler strain!

The trial of obedience o'er.
Decent is ev'n th' excess of praise :

Then bursting from the bonds of clay, For Theron strike the sounding lyre again.

Triumphant tread the heav'ij-pav'd road Olympia's flowering wreath he singly wears;

That leads to Saturn's bizh abode, The Isthmian palm his brother shares.

And Jove himself directs the way. Delphi resounds the kindred name,

There, where the blest reside at case, The youths contend alike for fame,

Bland zephyrs breathe the sea-borne breeze Fair rirals in the glorious chase,

O'er all the happy isle: When twelvetimes dartiog round,theyflew the giddy Unnumber'd sweets the air perfume, space.

'Tis all around one golden bloom, Thrice blest! for whom the Graces twine

All one celestial smile.

1 Fame's brightest plume, the wreath divine: By living streams fair trees ascend, Lost to remembrance, former woes

Whose roots the hunid waters lave; , No more retlection's sting employ;

The boughs with radiant fruitage bend, With triumph all the bosom glows,

Rich produce of the fruitful wave. Pour'd through th' expanding heart, th' impetuous Thus sporting in celestial bow'rs, tide of joy.

The sons of the immortal morn, Riches, that singly are possest,

Their heads and rosy hands adorn
Vain pomp of life! a specious waste,

With garlands of unfading flow'rs.
But feed luxurious pride:

There Rhadamanth, who great assessor reigns Yet when with sacred virtues crown'd,

To Rhæa's sun, by still unchanging right, Wealth deals its liberal treasures round, Awarding all: to rice, eternal chaios; 'Tis nobly dignified.

To virtue opes the gates of light. To modest worth, to honour's bands,

Rhæa! who high in Heav'n's subliine abodes With conscious warmth he large imparts;

Sits thron'd, the mother of the gods. And in his presence smiling stands

Cadmus to this immortal choir Fair Science, and her handmaid, Arts;

Was led; and Peleus' noble sire! As in the pure serene of night,

And glorious son! since Thetis' love”. Thron’d in its sphere, a beauteous star Subdued, with prayor, the vielding mind of Jove. Sheds its blest influence from afar,

Who Troy laid prostrate on the plain, At once beneficent and bright.

His country's pillar, Hector, slain;
But hear, ye wealthy, hear, ye great,

By whom unhappy Crgnus bled;
By whom the Ethiopian boy,

it loir I sing the fix'd decrees of fate, What after death remains,

That sprung from Neptune's godlike bed, Prepard for the unfeeling kind

The aged Tithon's and Aurora's highest jov. Of cruel uprelenting mind,

What grand ideas crowd my brain! ilu A duom of endless pains;

What images! a lofty train
The crimes that stain'u this living light,

In beauteous order spring:
Beneath the huly eye of Jove,

As the keen store of feather'd fates
Meet in the regious drear of night,

Within the braided quiver waits,
The vengeance but delay'd above,

Impatient for the wing:
There the pale sioner drear aghast,

See, see they mount! The sacred few,
Impartial, righteous, and severe,

Endued with piercing flight,
Unaw'd by pow'r, unmov'd by pray'r,

Alone through darling fields pursue
Eternal justice doonis at last,

Th' aërial regions bright. Far otherwise, the souls whom virtue guides

This Nature gives, ber chiefest boast; Enjoy a calm repose of sacred rest,

But when the bright ideas fly,
Nor light nor shade their time divides,

Far soaring from the vulgar eye,
With one eternal sunshine blest.

To vulgar eyes are lost pris. Vi Emancipated from the cares of life,

Where Nature sows her genial seeds, siil No more they urge the mortal strife;

A liberal harvest'straight succeeds, sh


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Fair in the human soil;

My brother thou, thou husband of my youth!: While Art, with hard laborious pains, Ab pity, Hector, then! and in this tow'r Creeps on unseen, nor much attains

With us remaio, nor render by thy fall
By slow progressive toil,

Hm a sad orphan, me a widow'd wife.
Resembling this, the feeble crow,

Here at this tig-tree station, where the town Amid the vulgar winged ciowd,

Is easiest of ascent, and low the walls, Hides in the darkening copse below,

Here thrice the bravest of the foes bare try'd
Vain, strutting, garrulous, and loud : To pass; each ajax, brave Idomeneus,
While genius mounts th'ethereal height, Thi Atridæ too, and Tydeus' warlike son;
As the imperial bird of Jove

Whether some seer, in divination skill'd,
On sounding pinjons soars above,

Prompted th' attempt, or their own valour dar'd And dares the majesty of Lgbt.

To execute a deed, their wisdom plaan'd." Then fit an arrow to the tunetul string,

To whom plume-nodding Hector thus reply'd: () thou, my genius! warm with sacred flame; “ These, woman, are my care; but much I fear Fly swift, ethereal shaft! and wing

The Trojan youth, and long-gown'd Trojan dames The gudlike Theron unto fame.

If, coward-like, I shun afar the fight: I solemn swear, and holy truth attest,

Not so my courage bids; for I have learnt That sole inspires the tunetul breast,

Still to be brave, and foremost to defend That, never since th’iminortal Sun

My father's mighty glories, and my own. His radiant journey firxt begun,

For well I know, and in my mind foresee,
To none the gods did e'er impart

A day will come, when sacred luon sinks,
A more exalted mind, or wide-diffusive heart, Old Priam perishes, the people too
Fly, Envy, hence, that durst invade

Of Priam aspen-spear'd. Yet not so much
Such glories, with injurious shade;

The woes the Trojans yet in after-times Still, with superior lustre bright,

Must undergo, not Hecuba berself, His virtues sl me, in number more

Nor princely Priain, bor my brothers dear, Than are the railiant fires of night,

Who, numerous and brave, have fallen in dust Or sands that spread along the sea-surrounding Below the boasting foe, distract my soul, shore.

As thou! Then when some brazen-coated Greek,
In the sad day of thy distress, shall drag
Thee weeping; or in Argos, breathing sad,

To some imperious mistress handınajd, thou

Shalt weave the web, or fetch the water's weight HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.

From Messeis or Hyperia's springs, against

Thy will, but hard decessity compels. FROM THE SIXTA ILIAD OF HOMER, TRANSLATED

Then shall he say, who sees thee sunk in tears,

'Lo! Hoctor's wife, who far the chief of all LITERALLY.

The Trojan steed-subduing race excell'd Beginning ver. 407. Δαιμονιε, φθισει σε το σον μενος,...

Who fought at liion.' Thus shail they say.

But thee new pangs shall seize; on thee shall come “O paring thou! to thy own strength a prey, Desire of such a husband to repel Nor pity moves thee for thy infant sun,

The evil hour: but may I low beneath Nor miserable me, a widow soon!

The monumental earth be laid to rest, For, rushing on thy single might, at once', Northy soft sorrows, for the melting voice The Greeks will overwhelm thee: better far Of thy captivity, e'er reach my ear." I had been wrapt in earth, tban live of thee So saying, the illustrious Hector stretch'd Forlorn, and desolate; if thou must die,

His hands to reach bis child; the child averse, What further comfort then for me remains, In the soft bosom of the fair-zon'd nurse What solace, but in tears? No father miue, Weeping, fell back, abnorrent, from bis sire Nor mine no venerable mother's care.

Of warlike aspect: for he fear'd the shine Noble Achilles' hand my father slewe,

Of armour, and the borse-hair horrid crest And spread destruction through Cilicia's town, That nodded dreadful on the helmet's top. Where many people dwelt, high-gated Thebes. The loving father smil'd, the mother smild; He slew Action, but despoil'd him not,

Straight from his head the illustrious Hector took For ivly in his mind he feard the gods;

His helm, and plac'd it blazing on the ground; But burnt his body with his polish'd arıns, Then fondled in his arms his inuch-lor'd son And o'er him rear'd a muund: the mountain He took; thus praying Jove, and all the gods: nymphs,

“ Jove, and ye other gods, grant this my son, The daughters fair of ægis-bearing Jove,

Granı he inay too become, as I am now, Planted with clms around the sacred place. The grace of Troy, the same in martial strength, Seven brythers flvurisii'd in my father's house; And rule his Ilion with a monarch's sway; Allin one day descended to the shades,

That men may say, when he returns from fight, All slain by great Achilles, swift of foot,

• This youth transcends his sire :' Then may be "Midst their white sheep, and beifers flexile-boof'd. The bloody spoils aloft of hostile chiefs My mother, woody llypoplacia's queen,

In battle slain, and joy his mother's heart!" Brought hither, numberd in the victor's spoils; He said: and to his much-lov'd spouse resigau Till loos'u froin bands, for gifts of mnighty price, His child: she, on her fragrant bosom luild, By chase-delighting Dian's dart she tell,

Smiling through tears, receiv'd him: at the sight, Sinote in my father's bouse: but, Hector, thou, Coinpassion touch'd her husband's heart: bercheck Thou art my sire, my hoary mother thou, With gentle blandishment be strok'd, and spoke:


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“) best belov’d! oh, sadden not thy heart Fird by the god, to Ternus he succeeds;
With grief beyond dae boonds: I trust, no hand Beneath his arm the 'Trojan battle bleeds;
Shall send me down to shades obscure, before The Tuscan troops invade their common foe,
My day of doom decreed; for well I ween Alike in bate their kindling bosoms glow
No man of mortal men escapes from death, Fierce to destroy, on him alone they pour
Fearful or bold: whoe'er is born inust die. Darts following darts, a thick continued show'r:
But thou, returning to thy home, atiend

Bat he andaunted, all the storin sustains,
The spindle, and the loom, thy peaceful cares; And scorns th' united fury of the plains:
And call thy duteous maidens round to share As some huge rock high towering 'midst the wares,
Their tasks by thee assign'd; for war belongs Of seas and skies the mingling tumult braves,
To men, and chief to me, of Ilion's sons.”

On its eternal basis fix'd is found, This said, illustrious Hector seiz'd bis belm, Though tempests rage, and oceans foam around." And to her home returo'd his much-lov'd spouse, First by bis arm unhappy Hebrus bled, Oft looking back, and shedding tears profuse. The issue of fam'd Dolicaón's bed; Then sudden at the lofty dome air vd,

Then Latagus submits to fate, his way With chambers fair adorn'd, where Hector dwelt, | Adverse he took, the chief with furious sway The godlike Hector!' there again she wept ! Upreard a pondrous rock, the shatter'd brain In bis own house the living Hector wept;

Confus'd with blood and yore, o'erspreads the plain.
For now foreboding in their fears, no more At flying Palmus next his dart be' threw,
They hop'd to meet him with returning step The speedy dart o'ertook him as he few,
From battle, 'scap'd the rage and force of Greece. Full in the ham, he feels the smarting wound,

Left by the victor grovelling on the ground:
His arms surround his Lausus' manly breast,

The waving plume adorns his shining crest :

Evas and Mimas, both of Trojan seed,

By the same arm were mingled with the dead;

Mimas, companion of the youthful cares 'U Ysses speaks.]

Of Paris, and the equal of his years:

Por, big with fancied flames, when Phrygia's queen Son of Achilles! brave Neoptolemus,

Brought forth the cause of woes, but ill foreseen; You tread the coast of sea-surrounded Lemnos,

T'extend his blooming race, that self-same night Where never mortal yet his dwelling reard.

The spouse of Amycus, Theano bright, Here, in obedience to the Grecian chiefs,

That night so fatal to the peace of Troy, I erst expos’d the son of noble Pæun,

Blest her lov'd husband with a parent's joy : Consuming with his wounds, and wasting slow

But fate to different lands their deaths decreed, In painful agonies; wild from despair,

This in his father's town was doomd to bleed; He fill'd the camp with lamentations loud,

Unthinking Mimas, by Mezentius slain, And execrations dire. No pure libation,

Now molls his carcase o'er the Latian plain. No holy sacrifice could to the gods

And as a tusky boar, whom dois invade, Be offer'd up: ill-omen'd sounds of woe

Of Vesulus bred in the piny shadle, Profan'd the sacred rites: But this no more

Or near Laurentia's lake, with forest mast Should he discover my return, 'twere vain His feasts obscene supplied in wild repast; The plan my wakeful industry has wove,

Rous'd from bis savage haunt, a deep retreat, Back to restore yet to the aid of Greece

A length of years his unmolested seat; This most important chief. 'Tis thine,brave youth, When once in toils enclos'd, no fight appears, To ripen into deed, what I propose,

Turus sudden, foaming fierce, his bristles rears; Cast round thy eyes, if thou by chance may'st find all safe at distance stand, and none is found, The double rock, where from the winter's cold

Whose valour dares indict a nearer wound: He shrouds his limbs, or when the summer glows. | Dreailless meanwhile, to every side he turns, Amid the cool, the zephyr's gentle breath

His teeth he gnashes, and with rage he burns; Lulls him to his repose; fast on the left

Th' united vingeance of the field derides, Flows a fresh fountain; if the hero sees

A forest rattles as lie shakes his sides: This living light, one of th' attendant train

So fare the Tuscan troops; with noisy rage, Speed with the hour to glad my listening ears,

And shouts, in the mixt tumult they engage; li in that savage baunt he harbours yet,

All from afar their missive weapons throw, Or in some other corner of this isle:

Fearful in equal arms to meet the foe. Then farther I'll disclose, what chief imports

Next, Grecian Acron rush'd into the plain,
Our present needs, and claims our common care.

Who came from Coritus's ancient reign:
Him thirst of fame to warlike dangers led,

The joys ontasted of the bridal bed;

From far Mezentius eyed him with delight,

In arms refulgent, as he mix'd in fight;

Full o'er bis breast, in gold and purple known,

The tokens of his love conspicuous shone.

Then, as a lion thirsting after blood,

(For him persuades the keen desire of food,) Written in the year 1719.

If, or a frisking goat he chance to view,

Or branching stag, that leads the stately crow; Now Jove inflames Mezentius great in arms, Rejoices, gaping wide, he makes siis way, His ardour rouses and his courage warus; Furious, and clings incumbent on the prey,

That helpless pants beneath his horrid paws, Again his javelin huge Mezentius wields;
The blood o'erflowing, laves his greedy jaws: Again tumultuous he invades the fields:
So keen Mezentius rushes on each foe; .

Large as Orion, when the giant stalks,
Unhappy Acron sinks beneath bis blow,

A bulk immense! through Nereus' midmost walks; Mad in the pangs of death, he spurns the ground, Secure he cleaves his way; the billows braves, The blood distains the broken spear around: His sinewy shoulders tow'r above the waves; Then Aed Orodes shameful from the fight; Bearing an ash, increas'd in strength with years, The victor scorn'd th' advantage of his flight; That huge upon the mountain's height appears; But fir'd with rage, through cleaving ranks he ran, He strides along, each step the earth divides; And face to face oppos'd, and man to man: In clouds obscure his lofty head resides: Not guileful from behind his spear to throw In stature huge, amidst the war's alarms, A wound unseen, but strikes an adverse blow. Such shone the tyrant in gigantic arms. Then with his foot his dying foe he press’d, Him, as exulting in the ranks he stood, Lean'd on his lance, and thus his friends address'd: At distance seen, and rioting in blood, “ Lo! where Orodes gåsps upon the sand; Æneas hastes to meet; in ail bis miglit His death was due to this victorious band,

He stands collected, and awaits the fight: Large portion of the war!” Exulting cries

First measuring, as he stood in act to thro, Ascend amain, and ring along the skies.

With nice survey, the distance of his foe: (might; To whom the vanquish’d, with imperfect sound, "This arm, this spear," be cry'd, “ assert my All weak, and faint, and dying of the wound: These are my gods, and these assist in fight: “ Nor long my ghost shall unreveng'd repine, His armour, from the boastful robber von, Nor long the triumph of my fall be thine; Shall tow'r a trophy to my conquering son." Thee, equal lates, insulting man, remain;

He said; and Alings the dart with dreadful force; Thee, death yet waits, and this the fatal plain.” The dart drove on unerring from the course; Him, as he roll'd in death, Mezentius spied, It reach'd the shield, the shield the blow repell d: He smil'd severe, and thus contemptuous cried: Nor fell the javelio guiltless on the field; “ Die thou the first; as he thinks fit, for me, But, piercing 'twixt the side avd bowels, tore The sire of Yeav'n and Earth, let Jove decree." The fam'd Authores, and deep drank the gure: He said: and puli'd the weapon from the wound; He, in his lusty years, from Argos sent, The purple life ebb'd out upon the ground: With fam’d Alcides, on his labours went: Death's clay-cold hand shut up the sinking light, Tird with his toils, á length of woes o'erpast, And o'er his closing eyes drew the dark mist of night. In the Evandrian realm he fix'd at last : By Cadicus' great arm Alcathons fell;

Call’d back again to war, where glory calls, Sacrator sent Hydaspes down to Hell:

Unhappy, by a death unmeant, be fails : Parthenius dies, by Rapo slain in fight;

To Heaven his mournful eyes the dying thrors; And Orses vast, of more than mortal might. In his last thoughts his native Argos rose. Next sank two warriors, Clonius the divine, Straight then, his beaming lance the Trojan threw; And Ericetes of Lycaon's line;

Swift hissing on the wind the weapon flew : The issue of the god, their deaths renown'd, The plates of threefold brass were fored to sit id; Whose forked trident rules the deep profound. And three bulls' hides that bound the solid shield: His courser, unobedient to the rein,

Deep in his lower groin, an arm so strong, Great Ericetes tumbled to the plain,

Drove the sharp point, but brought not death along, Prone as he lay, swift fled the thirsty dart, Then joyful as the Trojan hero spied Aud found the mortal passage to his heart. The spouting blood pour dowo his wounded sitie, Then lights the victor from his lofty steed, Like lightning, from his thigh his sword be drew, And, foot to foot engag'd, made Clonius bleed. And furious on th' astonish'd warrior fiew. Then Lycian Agis, boastful of his might,

As Lausus saw, full sore he heard the sigh; Prorok'd the bravest fve to single fight;

The ready tear stood trembling in his eye: Him boldly Tuscan Valerus assail'd,

His father's danger touch'd the youthful chief; And in the virtues of bis sire prevail'd.

With pious haste he ran to his relief. By Salius' arm, the swift Antronius bled;

Nor shalt thon sink unnoted to the tomb, Neal es' javelin struck the victor dead;

Unsung thy noble deed, and early doom: Nealces, skilld the sounding dart to throw, If future times to such a deed will give And wing the treacherous arrow to the foe. Their faith, to future times thy name shall live, Mars, raging god, and stern! the war confounds; Disabled, trembling for a death so near, Equals the victor's shouts, and dying sounds. The father slow-receding, drags the spear: Encountering various on the imbattled field, Just in that moment, as suspended high Now fierce they rush, now fierce retreating, yield. The flaming sword shone adverse to the sky, With eqnal rage, each adverse battle glows, The daring youth rush'd in, and fronts the fue, Nor tiight is known to these, nor known to those. And from his father turus th' impending blow. Tisiphone enjoys the direful sight,

His friends with joyful shouts reply around; Pale, furious, fell! and storms amidst the fight, Through all their echoes all the bills resound; The gods, from Jove's immortal dome, survey As wonderiug they beheld the wounded sire, Each army toiling, through the dreadtul day; Protected by the son, from fight retire, With tender pity touch'd, lament the pain A dark’ning flight of singing shafts annoy, That human life is destin'd to sustain.

From every quarter pour'd, the prince of Troy: Ou either side, two deities are seen;

He stands against the fury of the field, Jove's awful consort, and soft beauty's queen: And rages, cover'd with bis mighty shield, The wife of Jove the conqueror's palm implores, And as when stormy winds encountering lood, Soft beauty's queen her 'Trojans' loss deplores. Burst with rude violence the bellowing cloud,


Precipitate to earth, the tempest pours

With dust the boary honours of his head The vexing hailstones thick in sounding showers: Sad he deforıns, and cleaves into the dead: The d-lug'd plains then every ploughman flies, Then both bis hands to Heav'n aloft he spread; And every hind and traveller shelter'd lies; And thus, in fulness of his sorrows, said :Or, where the rock high overarch'd impends, “ Could then this lust of life so warp my mind, Or, where the river's shelving bank defends; That I could think of leaving thee behind That, powerful o'er the storm, when bright the ray Whom I begot, unhappy in my stead Shines forth, they each may exercise the day. To ine.t the warrior, and for ine to bleed ? Loud sounds the gather'd storin ; o'er all the field Now fate severe has struck too deep a blow, The clond of war pours thundering on his shield. Now first I feel a wretched exile's woe. Yet still he tried with friendly care to save And is it thus I draw this wretched breath, Th' unhappy youth, unfortunately brave. Sav'd by thy wound, and living by thy death?

Ah! whither dost thou urge thy fatal course, I too, my son, with horrid guilt profan't In daring deeds ! unequal to thy force ?

Thy sacred virtues, and their lustre stain'd: Too pious in thy love, thy love betrays;

Outcast, abandon'd by the care of Heav'n, Nor such the vigour crowns thy youthful days." From empire, and paternal sceptres driv'n, Not thus advis'd, the youth still fronts the foe My people's hatred, and insulting srorn, Exulting, and provokes the lingering blow: The merit of my crimes I've justly borne : For now, his martial bosom all on fire,

To thousand deaths this wicked soul could give, The Trojan leader's tide of rage swellid bigher; Since now 'tis crime enough that I can live, For now, the sisters view'd the fatal strife,

Can yet sustain the light, and human race, And wonnd up the last threads of Lausus' life: Wretch'd as I am :--but short shall be the space." Deep plung'd the shining falcbion in his breast, He said; and as he said, he reard from ground Pierc'd his thin armour, and embroider'd vest, His fainting limbs, yet stargering froin the wound: That, rich in ductile gold, his mother wove But whole and undiminish'd still remains With her own hands, the witness of her love. His strength of soul, unbroke with toil and pains. His breast was filld with blood; then, sad and slow He calls his steed, successful from each figli, Through air resolv'd, the spirit fled below: With whom he march'd, his glory and delight; As ghastly pale, the cbief the dying spied, With words like these his conscious steed a dre-s'd, His handshestretch'dto Heav'n, and pitying sigh'd; That mouro'd, as with his master's ills oppress'd: His sire Anchises rose an image dear

Rhæhus, we long have liv'd in arms combin’d,,
Sad in his soul, and fore'd the teuder tear. (If long the frail possessions of mankind ;)
“ What praise, O youth! unhappy in thy fate, . This day thou shalt bring back, crown our toils,
What can Æneas yield to worth so great ? The Trojan hero's head, and glittering spoils
Worth, that distinguish'd in thy deed appcars, Torn from the bloody man! with me shall take
Ripe in thy youth, and early in thy years: A dear revenge, for murder'd Lausus' sake:
Thy arms, once pleasing objects of thy care, If strength shall fail to ope the destin'd way,
Inviolate from hostile spoil I spare;

Together fall, and press the Latian clay;
Thy breathless body on thy friends bestow, For after me I trust thou wilt disdain
To mitigate hy pensive spirit's woe,

A Trojan leader, and an alien rein."
If aught below the separate soul can move, He said: the steed receives his wonted weight,
Solicitous of what is done above;

The tyrant arm'a, and furious for the fight: (Yet in the grave, perhaps, from every care His blazing helmet, formidably grac'd Releas'd, nor knowledge, por device is there;) With nodding horse-hair, brightening o'er the crest: That, gather'd to thy sires, thy friends may mouin With deathful javelins next he fills bis hands; Thy hapless fall, and dust to dust return:

And spurs his steed, and serks the fi:hting binds: This be thy solace in the world below,

Grief mix'd with madness, shame of former fight, 'Twas I, the great Æneas, struck the blow.” And love by rage infiam'd to desperate height, He said; and beck’ning, chides his friends' delay; | And conscious knowledge of his valour, wrought And pious to assist, directs the way,

Fierce in his breast, and boild in every thought. To rear him from the ground, with friendly care, He calls Æneas thrice: Æneas heard Dishonour'd foul with blood his comely bair. The welcome sound; and thus his prayer preferr'd:

The wretched father now, by Tyber shore “May Jove, supreme of gods, who rules on high! Wash'd from his streaming thigh the crimson gore: And he, to whom 'tis giv'n to gild the sky, Paind with his sound, and weary from the light, Far-shooting king! inspire the to draw near A tree's broad trunk supports bis drooping weight: Swift to thy fate, and grant thee to my spear.' A bough his helmet beaming tar sustains:

But he:-"My Lausus ravishd from my sight, His heavier armour rest along the plains.

Me, with vain words, O! cruel, woulil'st affright; Panting, and sick, his body downward hends, With age, with watchings, and with lat wurs worn, And to his breast his length of beard descends: Death is below my fear, and God I scorn! He leans his careful head upon his hand;

I come resolu'd to die; but, ere I go, Aroun: hiru wait a melancholy band:

Receive this dart, the present of a foe.” Much of his Lansus asks, anil many sent

He said: the javelin hiss'd along the skies; To warn him back, a father's kind intent:

Another after, and another tlies; How vainly sent! for, hreathless, from the field Thick, and incessant, as he rides the field; They bear the youth, extended on his shield; Still all the storm sustains the golesi shield Loud wailing mourn’d hio slain in early bloom, Firm, as Æneas stood: tbrice rode he round, Mighty, and by a mighty wound o’ercome. Urging bis darts, the compass of the ground:

Far off the sounds of woe the father hears; Thrice weeld Encas; thrice his buckler bears. He trembles in the foresight of his fears;

About, a brazen wood of rising spears:


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