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Think then, O fairest of the fairer race,

What fatal beauties arm thy heavenly face, While in these fountains bright Belinda laves, Whose very shadow can such flames inspire; She adds new virtues to the healing waves : We see 'tis paint, and yet we feel 'tis fire. Thus in Bethesda's pool an angel stood,

See! with false life the lovely image glows, Bad the soft waters heal, and blest the flood :

And every wondrous grace transplanted show's; But from her eye such bright destruction flies, Patally fair the new creation reigns, In vain they flow! for her, the lover dies. Churins in her shape, and multiplies our pains:

No more let Tagus boast, whose beds unfold Hence the fond youth, that ease by absence found, A shining treasure of all-conquering gold ! View's the dear form, and bleeds at every wound; No inore the Po?! whose wandering waters stray, Thus the bright Venus, though to Heaven she soar'd, In mazy errours, through the starry way: Reign'd in her image, by the world ador'd. Henceforth these springs superior honours share; Oh! wondrous power of mingled light and shades! There Venus laves, but my Belinda here.

Where beauty with dumb eloquence persuades,
Where passions are beheld in picture wrought,
And animated colours look a thought :

Rare art! on whose cominand all nature waits!

It copies all Omnipotence creates :
Here crown'd with mountains earth expanded lies,

There the proud seas with all their billow's rise : Love is a noble rich repast,

If life be drawn, responsive to the thought But seldom should the lover taste ;

The breathing figures live throughout the draught;

The mimiç bird in skies sictitious moves, When the kind fair no more restrains,

Or focied beasts in imitated groves : The glutton surfeits, and disdains.

Ev'n Heaven it climbs; and from the forining hands To more the nymph, he tears bestows,

An angel here, and there a Townshend stands. He rainly sighs, he falsely vows : The tears deceive, the vows betray;

Yet, painter, yet, though Art with Nature strive, He conquers, and contemns the prey,

Though ev'n the lovely phantom seem alive,

Submit thy vanquish'd art! and own the draught, Thus Ammon's son with fierce delight

Though fair, defective, and a beauteous fault; Smil'd at the terrours of the fight;

Charms, such as hers, inimitably great, The thoughts of conquest charm'd his eyes,

He only can express, that can create He conquerid, and he wept the prize,

Couldst thou extract the whiteness of the snow, Love, like a prospect, with delight

Or of its colours rob the heavenly bow, Sweetly deceives the distant sight,

Yet would her beauty triumph o'er thy skill, Where the tir'd travellers survey,

Lovely in thee, herself more lovely still! O'er hanging rocks, a dangerous way.

Thus in the limpid fountain we descry Ye fair, that would victorious prove,

The faint resemblance of the glittering sky; Seem but half kind, when most you love:

Another Sun displays bis lessen'd beains, Damon pursues, if Celia tlies;

Another Heaven adorns the enlighten'd streaing; But when her love is born, his dies.

But though the scene be fair, yet high above

Th' exalted skies in nobler beauties move;
Had Danaë the young, the fair,
Been free and unconfin'd as air,

There the true Heaven's etemal lamps display Free from the guards and brazen tower,

A deluge of iniinitable day. She'd ne'er been worth a golden show'r,






περιέσαι γυναικών Είδος τ' ιδε φρένας.

Odyssey, lib. 18.
AH! cruel hand, that could such power employ
To teach the pictur'd beauty to destroy !
Singly she charm'd before; but by his skill
The living beauty and her likeness kill!
Thus when in parts the broken mirrors fall,
A face in all is seen, and charms in all !


ON 113 WORKS. 1726.
Let vulgar souls triumpal arches raise,
And speaking marble, to record their praises
Or carve with fruitless toil, to farne unknown,
The mimic feature on the breathing stone;
Mere mortals, subject to Death's total sway,
Reptiles of Earth, and beings of a day!
'Tis thine, on every heart to grave thy praise,
A monument which worth alone can raise;
Sure to survive, when Tine shall whelm in dust
The arch, the marble, and the mimic bust;
Nor till the volumes of th' expanded sky
Blaze in one tlaine, shalt thou and Hoiner dic;
When sink together in the world's last fires
What Heaven created, and what Heaven inspires.

If aught on Earth, when once this breath is fled,
With human transport touch the mighty dead;

I-Eridanum cernes in parte locatum cali.

Tull, in Arateis, Gurgite sidereo subterluit Oriona. Claud.

: Now lady Cornwallis,



Shakespeare, rejoice! his hand thy page'refines, Nor longer in his heavy eye-ball shin'd
Now every scene with native brightness shines; The glance divine forth-beaming from the mind v
Just to thy fame, he gives thy genuine thought, But you, like Pallas, every limb infold
So Tully publish'd what Lucretius wrote;

With royal robes, and bid him shine in gold;
Prun'd by his care, thy laurels loftier grow, Touch'd by your hand, his manly frame improves
And bloom afresh on thy immortal brow. (vades, With air divine, and like a god he moves.

Thus when thy draughts, O Raphael, Time in- This labour past, of heavenly subjects sing,
And the bold figure froin the canvas fades; While hovering angels listen on the wing ;
A rival hand recalls from every part

To hear from Earth such heart-felt raptures rise,
Some latent grace, and equals art with art; As, when they sing, suspended hold the skies :
Transported we survey the dubious strife,

Or, nobly rising in fair Virtue's cause, While the fair image starts again to life.

From thy own life transcribe th' unerring laws ; How long untun'd had Homer's sacred lyre

Teach a bad world beneath her sway to bend,
Jarr'd grating discord, all extinct his fire !

To verse like thine fierce savages attend,
This you beheld; and, taught by Hearen to sing, And men more fierce! When Orpheus tunesthe laze
Call’d the loud music from the sounding string.

Ev'n fiends, relenting, hear their rage away,
Now wak'd from slumbers of three thousand years,
Once more Achilles in dread pomp appears,
Towers o'er the field of Death; as fierce he turns,
Keen flash his arms, and all the hero burns;
His plume nods horrible, his helm on high
With cheeks of iron glares against the sky;

With martial stalk, and more than mortal might,
He strides along, he meets the God in fight :
Then the pale Titans, chain'd on burning floors, Now high advanc'd the night, o'er all the hose
Start at the din that rends th' infernal shores;
Tremble the towers of Heaven; Earth rocks her Sleep shed his softest balm restless alone

Atrides lay, and cares revolv'd on cares.
coasts ;

As when with rising vengeance gloomy Jove And gloomy Pluto shakes with all his ghosts.

Pours down a wał'ry deluge, or in storms
To every theme responds thy various lav;

Of hail or snow commands the goary jaws
Here pours a torrent, there meanders play:
Sonorous as the storm thy numbers rise,

Of War to roar; through all the kindling skies,
Toss the wild waves, and thunder in the skies;

With flaming wings on lightnings lightnings play: Or, softer than a yielding virgin's sigh,

So while Atrides meditates the war, The gentle breezes breathe away, and die.

Sighs after sighs burst from his manly breast,

And shake his inmost soul: round o'er the fields
How twangs the bow, when with a jarring spring
The whizzing arrows vanish from the string !

'To Troy he turns his eyes, and round beholds When giants strain, some rock's vast weight to shove, Passes the direful symphony of war,

A thousand fires blaze dreadful; through his ears The slow verse heaves, and the clogs'd words scarce move;

Of fife, or pipe, and the loud hum of hosts But when from high it rolls with many a bound,

Strikes him dismay'd: now o'er the Grecian tente

His eyes he rolls; now from his royal head Jumping it thundering whicls, and rushes to the

Rends the fair curl in sacrifice to Jove,
Swift fiows the verse, when winged lightnings fly,

And his brave heart beaves with imperial woeste
Dart from the dazzled view, and flash along the sky; Thus groans the thoughtful king; at length resolves
Thus, like the radiant God who sheds the day, To seek the Pylian sage, in wise debate
The vale you paint, or guild the azure way; To ripen high designs, and from the sword
And, while with every theme the verse complies, Preserve his banded legions. Pale and sad
Sink without groveling; without rashness, rise. Uprose the monarch: instant o'er his breast

A robe he threw, and on his royal feet
Proceed, great bard, awake th? harmonious
Be ours all Homer, still Ulysses sing! (string,

Glitter'd th' embroider'd sandals: o'er his back

A dreadful ornament, a lion's spoils,
Ev'n I, the meanest of the Muses' train,
Inflai'd by thee, atteinpt a nobler strain ;

With hideous grace down to his ankles hung;
Advent'rous waken the Mæonian lyre ,

Fierce in his hand he grasp'd a glittering spear.
Tun'd by your hand, and sing as you inspire ; With qual cạre was Menelaus toss'd :
So, arı'd by great Achilles for the fight,

Sleep from his temples fled, his generous heart
Patroclus conquerd in Achilles' might.

Felt all his people's woes, who in his cause
Like theirs our friendship! and I boast my name Stemm'd the proud main, and nobly stood in arms
To thine united, for thy friendship’s fame, Confronting Death: a leopard's spotted spoils

Terrific clad his limbs, a brazen helm
How long Ulysses, by unskilful bands

Beam'd on his head, and in his hand a spear.
Stript of his robes, a beggar trod our lands,
Such as he wander'd o'er his native coast,

Forth from his tent the royal Spartan strode
Shrunk by the wand', and all the hero lost;

To wake the king of men; hiin wak'd he found O'er his smooth skin a bark of wrinkles spread,

Clasping his polish'd arms; with rising joy Old-age disgrac'd the honours of his head ;

The heroes meet, the Spartan thus begun:

Whythus in arms, my prince: Send'st thou som, * The author translated eight books of the Odyssey.

To view the Trojan host? Alas! I tear


Lest the most dauntless sors of glorious War " See the 16th Odyssey, ver. 186, and 476. Shrink at the bold design! This task demands

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à soul, resolv'd to pass the gloom of night,

To whom the Pylian: “Think not, mighty king, And 'midst her legion search the powers of Troy." Jove ratifies vain Hector's haughty views;

"O prince," he cries, “in this disastrous hour A sudden, sad reverse of mighty woes Greece all our counsel claims, now, now demands

Waits that audacious victor, when in arms Our deepest cares! the power omnipotent

Dreadful Achilles shines. But now thy stops Frowns on our arms, but smiles with aspect mild

Nestor attends. Be it our care to wake On Hector's incense : Heavens! what son of Fame,

Sage Ithacus, and Diomed the brave, Renown'd in story, e'er such deeds achiev'd

Meges the bold, and in the race renown'd In a whole life, as in one glorious day

Oilean Ajax. To the ships that guard This favourite of the skies? and yet a man!

Outmost the camp, some other speed his way A mortal! born to die! but such his deeds

To raise stern Ajax and the Cretan king, As future Grecians shall repeat with tears

But love, nor reverence to the mighty name To children yet unborn.-But haste, repair

Of Menelaus, nor thy wrath, O king, To Ajax and Idaineneus : we wake

Shall stop my free rebuke: sleep is a crime Ourself the Pylian sage, to keep the guardo

When Agamemnon wakes; on him it lies On duty, by his care; for o'er the guards

To share thy martial toils, to court the peers His son presides nocturnal, and in arms

To act the men : this hour claims all our cares." His great compeer, Meriones the bold.”

“Reserve," rejoins the king, “for future hours “But say,” rejoins the prince," these orders borne, Thy generous anger. Seems the royal youth There shall I stay, or measuring back the shores, Remiss? 'tis not through indolence of soul, 'To thee return?" “ No more return," replies But deference to our power; for our commands The king of hosts, “ lest treading different ways

He waits, and follows when we lead the way. We meet no more; for through the camp the ways This night, disdaining rest, his steps he bent Lie intricate and various: but aloud

To our pavilion : now th' illustrious peers, Wake every Greek to martial fame and arms; Rais'd at his call, a chosen synod stand Teach thein to emulate their godlike sires; Before the gates : haste, Nestor, haste away." And thou awhile forget thy royal birth, And share a soldier's cares: the proudest king

To whom the sage well pleas'd: “ In such brave Is but exalted dust ; and when great Jove

No Greek will envy power: with loyal joy (hando Calid us to life, and gave us royal power,

Subjects obey, when men of worth command.”

He added not, but o'er his manly breast He gave a sad preeminence of woes.”

Flung a rich robe : beneath his royal feet He spoke, and to the tent of Nestor turns

The glittering sandals shone: a soft, large vest, His step majestic : on his couch he found

Florid with purple wool, his aged limbs The hoary warrior ; all around him lay

Graceful adorn’d : tipt with a star of brass His arms, the shield, the spears, the radiant helm, A ponderous lance he grasp'd, and strode away And scarf of various dye: with these array'd, To wake sage Ithacus. Aloud his voice The reverend father to the field of Fame

Ile rais'd: his voice was heard, and from his tent Led his bold files; for, with a brave disdain, Instant Ulysses sprung; and, “ Why," he cry'd, Old as he was, he scorn'd the case of age.

Why thus abroad in the chill hours of night? Sudden the monarch starts, and half uprais'd,

What new distress invades?”—“Forgive my cares, Thus to the king aloud :

What art thou, say? Reply'd the hoary sage; “for Grecce I wake, Why in the camp alone? while others sleep, Greece and her dangers bring me to thy tent: Why wanderest thou obscure the midnight hours? | But haste, our wakeful peers in council meet; Seekst thou some centinel, or absent friend? This, this one night determines flight or war.” Speak instant !-Silent to advance, is death!”

Swift at the word he seiz'd his ample shield, “O pride of Greece,” the plaintive king returns, And strode along; and now they bend their way * Here in thy tent thou Agamcinnon view'st,

To wake the brave 'l'ydides: him they found A prince, the most unhappy of mankind; Stretch'd on the earth, array'd in sbining arms, Woes I endure, which none but kings can feel,

And round, his brave companions of the war: Which ne'er will cease until forgot in death :

Their shields sustain'd their heads; erect their speare Pensive I wander through the damp of night, Shot through th' illumin'd air a streaming ray, Through the cold damp of night; distress’d; alone! | keen as Jove's lightning wing'd athwart the skies, And sleep is grown a stranger to my eyes: Thus slept the chicf: beneath him on the ground The weight of all the war, the load of woes

A savage bull's black hide was rolld; his head That presses every Greek, united falls

A splendid carpet bore. The slumbering king On me the cares of all host are mine!

The Pybian gently with these words awakes :
Grief discomposes, and distracts my thoughts ;
My restless panting 'heart, as if it strove

“ Rise, son of Tydeus ! ill, a whole night's rest To force its prison, beats against my sides!

Suits with the brave! and sleep'st thou, while proud My strength is fail'd, and even my feet refuse

Troy To bear so great a load of wretchedness!

Hangs o’er our tents, and from yon joining hill

Prepares her war? Awake, my friend, awake!” " But if thy wakeful cares (for o'er thy head Wakeful the hours glide on) have aught maturid Sudden the chief awoke, and mildly gave liseful, the thonght unfold: but rise, my friend, This soft reply: "Oh! cruel to thy age, Visit with me the watches of the night;

Thou gooduld man! ne'er wilt thou, wilt thou ceasa Jest tir'd they sleep, while 'Troy with all her war to burthen age with cares? Has Greece no youths Hangs o'er our tents, and now, perhaps ey'n now To wake the peers ? unweary'd man, to hear Arus ber proud bangls. Arise, my friend, arise !" At once the double load of tuils, and years !"

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“ 'Tis true," he cry'd,"my subjects and my sons But haste; swift roll the hours of night, the more
Might ease a sire and king: but rest's a crime Already hastens to display her beams,
When on the edge of fate our country stands : And in the vault of Heaven the stars decay."
Ere yet a few hours more have run their course, Swift at the word they sheathe their manly limbs
Important space! Greece triumphs, or Greece falls ! Horrid in arms: a two-edg'd sword and shield
But, since an old man's cares thy pity moves, Nestor's bold son to stern 'Tydides gave;
Haste, generous youth, with speed to council call

A tough bull's hide his ample helmet form’d, Meges the brave, and in the race renown'd

No cone adoin'd it, and no plumy crest Oilean Ajax."-Strait the chief obey'd,

Wạrd in the air : a quiver and a bow, Strajt o'er his shoulders Aung the shargy spoils And a huge faulchion, great Ulysses bears, Of a huge tawny lion ; witi dire grace

The gift of Merion : on his head an helm Down to his feet they hung: fierce in his hand

Of leather nodded, firm within, and bound He grasp'd a glittering spear, and init'd the guards. With many a thong; without, dreadful rows Wakeful in arms they sair, a faithful band, The snowy tusks of a huge savage boar As watchful dogs proteot the fleecy train,

Grinn'd horrible. Thus arm’d, away they stalk When the stern lion, furioris for his prey,

Undaunted : o'er their heads the martial inaid Rushes through crashing woods, and on the fold Sends on the right an her'n; the ambient glooin Springs from some mountain's brow, while mingled Conceals him from the view, but loud in air Of men and hounds aları: to every cound {cries They hear the clangor of his sounding wings, Faithful they turn : so through the gloom of night Joyful the prosperous sign Ulysses hail'd. They cast their view, and caught each noise of Troy. | And thus to Pallas : " Offspring of dread Jove, Now met th' illustrious synod; down they sate,

Who hurls the burning bolts ! O guardian power, Down on a spot of ground unstain'd with blood, Present in all my toils, who view'st my way Where vengeful Hector from the slaughter stay'd Where'er I move, now thy celestial aid, His murderous arm, when the dark veil of night Now, goddess, lend ! may deeds this night adorn, Sabled the pole: to whom thus Nestor spoke : Deeds that all Troy may weep: may we return “ Lives there a son of Fame so nobly brave,

In safety by thy guidance, heavenly maid !" That Troy-ward dares to trace the dangerous way, Tydides caught the word; and, “Oh!” he cries, To seize some straggling foe? or learn what Troy. “ Virgin armipotent, now grant thy aid, Now meditates ? to pour the flood of war

As to my sire!. He by the gulphy food Fierce on our fleet, or back within her walls Of deep Asopus left th' embattled bands Lead her proud legions? Oh! what fame would crown Of Greece in arms, and to imperial Thebes The hero thus triumphant, prais'd o'er Earth Bore terms of peace; but, as from haughty Thebes Above the sons of men ! And what rewards

Alone he journey'd, deeds, heroic deeds, Should he receive! From every grateful peer His arm achiev'd, for Tydeus was thy oare: A sable ewe, and lamb, of highest worth

Thus guard his offspring, Oh! stern queen of arms; Memorial; to a brave, heroic heart

So shall an heifer on thy altars bleed, T'he noblest prize! and at the social feast Young and untam'd; to thee her blood l pour, Amongst the great, be his the seat of Fame.” And point her lunar horns with burnish'd gold.”

Abash'd they sate, and ev’n the brave knew fear. Thus pray the chiefs, and Pallas hears their prayer Not so Tydides : unappall'd he rose,

Then, like two lions through the shades of night, And nobly spoke! “ My soul! Oh! reverend sage, Dauntless they stride along; and hold their way Fires at the bold design ; through yon black host Through blood, and mangled limbs, o'er arms and Venturous I bend my way; but if his aid • Nor pass they far, e'er the sagacious eye (death, Some warrior lend, my courage might arise Of Ithacus discerns a distant foe To nobler heights : the wise by mutual aid Coasting from Troy, and thus to Diomed : Instruct the wise, and brave men fire the brave.". “See! o'er the plain some Trojan bends this way, Fierce at the word upstarted from the ground

Perhaps to spoil the slain ! or to our host The stern Ajaces, fierce bold Merion rose,

Comes he a spy? Beyond us o'er the field And Thrasymedes, sons of War: nor sate

'Tis best he pass, then sudden from behind The royal Spartan, nor great Nestor's heir, Rush we precipitant; but it in flight Nor greater Ithacus; his manly heart

His active feet prevail, thy spear employ Sweli'd at the view of fame.--Elate with joy

To force him on our lines, lest hid in shades, Atrides saw; and, “Oh! thou best of friends,

Through the dusk air he re-escape to Troy.” Brave Diomed,” he cries, “ of all the peers Then conching to the ground, ambush'd they lay Chuse thou the valiantest : when merit pleads, Behind a hill slain, onward the spy Tities no deference claim; high birth and state Incessant mov'd : he pass'd, and now arose To valour yield, and worth is more than power." The fierce pursuers. Dolon heard the sound Thus, fearing for his brother, spoke the king,

Of trampling feet, and panting, listening stood ; Not long! for Diomed dispels his fears.

Now reach'd the chiefs within a javelin's throw,

Stern foes of Dolon ! swift along the shores “Since free my choice, can I forget a friend, The man, for wisdom's various arts renown'd;

He wing'd his flight, and swift along the shores

They still pursued : as when two skilful hounds The man, whose dauntless soul no toils dismay,

Chase o'er the lawn the hare or bounding roe, Ulysses, lov'd by Pallas ? through his aid,

Still from the sheltering brake the gaine they turn, Though thousand fires oppose, a thousand fires

Stretch every nerre, and bear upon the prey ! Oppose in vain, bis wisdom points the way."

"Nor praise, nor blame," the hero strait replies; “You speak to Greeks, and they Ulysses know:

V. 339.

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do ran the chiefs, and from the host of Troy Venturous you bend to search the host of Troy,
Turn'd the swift foe: now nigh the fleet they flew, There in yon outmost lines, a recent aid,
Noe almost mingled with the guards; when lo! The Thracians lie, by Rhesus led, whose steeds
The martial goddess breath'd heroic dames Outshine the snow, outfly the winged! winds.
Fierce on Tydides' soul : the hero fear'd

With glittering silver plates, and radiant gold Lest some bold Greek should interpose a wound, His chariot Hames; gold forms his dazzling arms, And ravish half the glories of the night.

Arms that may grace a god but to your tents
Furious he shoukhis lance, and, “Stand,” he cry'd, Unhappy me convey; or bound with chains,
“Stand, or thou dy'st :" then sternly from his arm Fast bound with cruel chains, sad on the shores
Launch'd the wild spear ; wilful the javelin err’d, Here leave me oaptive, till you safe return,
But whizzing o'er his shoulder, deep in earth And witness to the truth my tongue untolds."
Stood quivering ; and he quaking stopp'd aghast ; To whom stern-frowning Diomed replies :
His teeth all chatter'd, and bis slack knees knock’d; " Though every syllable be stamp'd with truth,
He seem'd the bloodless image of pale Fear. Dolon, thou dy'st : woald'st thou once piore return
Panting the spy they seize; who thus with tears Darkling a spy, or wage, a nobler foe,
Abject entreats: “Spare me, oh! spare,” he cries; Newwaron Greece? Traitor, thou dy'st; ont more
“ My hoary sire your mercy shall repay,

New war thou wagest, nor return'st a spy."
Soon as he hears I draw the vital air,
With ample wealth,with steel, with brass,with gold.”

He spoke terrific: and as Dolon rais'd

Suppliant his humble hands, the trenchant blade To whom Ulysses artfully : “ Be bold :

Sheer through his neck descends; the furious blow Far hence the thought of death! but instant say Cleaves the tough nerves in twain; down drops the Why thus alone in the still hours of night

And mutters unintelligible sounds. (head, While every eye is clos'd ? to spoil the slain Strait they despoil the dead: the wolf's grey hide Com'st thou rapacious? or some nightly spy They seize, the helm, the spear, and battle-bow: By Hector sent? or has thy venturous mind These, as they dropp'd with gore, on high in air Impelld thee to explore our martial bands?” Ulysses rais'd, and to the martial maid

Thus lowly consecrates: “Stern power of war, “ By Hector sent, and by rewards undone,"

Virgin armipotent, receive these arms, Returns the spy, (still as he spoke he shook) “ I come unwilling : the refulgent car

Propitious to my vows, thee, goddess, thee

Chiefly I call : direct our prosperous way He promis'd, and immortal steeds that bear

To pierce the Thracian tents, to seize the steeds To fight the great Achilles : thus betray'd, . Through the dun shades of night I bend my way

Of Rhesus, and the car that fames with gold." Unprosperous, to explore the tented host

Then fierce o'er broken arms, through streams Of adverse Greece, and learn if now they stand

of blood Wakeful on guard, or, vanquish'd by our arms, They move along: now reach the Thracian bands Precipitant desert the shores of Troy."

All hush'd in sleep profound; their shining arms, To whom with similes of scorn the sage returns :

Rang'd in three ranks along the plain, around * Bold were thy aims, O youth ! But those proud By every Thracian stood: Rhesus their king

Illumin'd the dun air: chariot and horse Restive, disdain the use of vulgar hands; (steeds, slept in the centre of the circling bands, Scarce ev'n the goddees-born, when the loud din

And his proud steeds were reiu'd behind his car. Of battle roars, subdues them to the rein Reluctant: But this night where Hector sleeps

With joy Ulysses through the gloom descry'u Faithful disclose: Where stand the warrior's steeds? The sleeping king; and, “ Lo!" hecries, the steeds, Where lie his arms and implements of war?

Lo! Diomed, the chief of Thrace, this night What guards are kept nocturnal? Say, what Troy

Describ'd by Dolon: now, oh! now thy strength

Dauntless exert! loose thou the furious sterds; Now meditates? to pour the tide of fight

Or while the steeds I loose, with slaughtering hands Fierce on our fleet, or back within her walls Transfer the war?"_"To these demands,” he cries, The queen of arms inflam'd "Tydides' soul

Invade the soldiery." He spoke, and now « Faithful my tongue shall speak: The peers of Troy With all her martial fires: his récking blade Hector in council meets : round Ilus' tomb

Op every side dealt fate; low, hollow groans Apart from noise they stand: no guards surround The spacious host: where through the gloom yon Welld from the slain. As in his nigl.tly haunts

Murmur'd around, blood o'er the crimson field fires Blaze frequent, Trojans wake to guard their Troy; Of sheep, or goat, and rends th’unguarde. I prey;

The surly lion rushes on the fold
Secure th' auxiliars sleep, no tender cares
Of wife or son disturb their calm repose,

So he the Thracian bands. Twelve by his sword

Lay breathless on the ground : behind him stood Safe sleep their wives and sons on foreign shores.

Sage Ithacus, and, as the warrior slew, " But say, apart encamp th' auxiliar bands,"

Swift he remov'd the slain, lest the fierce steeds, Replies the sage, or join the powers of Troy?”

Not yet inur'd to blood, should trembling start, “ Along the sea-beat shores," returns the spy, Impatient of the dead. Now o'er the king * The Leleges and Carians stretch their files; He whirls his wrathful blade, now furious gores Near these the Caucons, and Pelasgian train, His heaving chest: he wak'd not; but a dream And Poons, dreadful with the battle-bow,

By Pallas sent; rose in his anxious thoughts; Extended lie; on the 'Thymbraan plain

A visionary warrior frowning stood The Lycians and the Mysians in array

Fast hy his head, and his aërial sword Spread their deep ranks: There the Mæonian bands, Plung'd through his labouring breast. Mean while And Phrygians, range the fiery steeds of war.

the steeds But why this nice Inquiry? If your way

The sage unbinds, and instant with his bow

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