Invocation to the Catalogue of Ships. Say, Virgins, feated round the throne divine, All-knowing Goddeffes! immortal Nine! Since earth's wide regions, heaven's unmeafur'd height, And hell's abyfs, hide nothing from your fight, (We, wretched mortals! loft in doubts below, But guefs by rumour, and but boast we know) Oh fay what heroes, fir'd by thirst of fame, 'Or urg'd by wrongs, to Troy's deftruction came! To count them all, demands a thousand tongues, A throat of brafs and adamantine lungs. Now, Now, Virgin Goddeffes, immortal Nine! That round Olympus' heavenly fummit shine, Who fee through heaven and earth, and hell profound, And all things know, and all things can refound; Relate what armies fought the Trojan land, What nations follow'd, and what chiefs comi mand: (For doubtful Fame distracts mankind below, And nothing can we tell, and nothing know). Without your aid, to count th' unnumber'd train," A thousand mouths, thoufand tongues were vain. Book V. v. 1. But Pallas now Tydides' foul infpires, Fills with her force, and warms with all : her fires : F Above Above the Greeks his deathlefs fame to raife, And crown her hero with diftinguifh'd praise, High on his helm celeftial lightnings play, His beamy fhield emits a living ray; fupplies, Like the red ftar that fires th' autumnal fkies. But Pallas now Tydides' foul inspires, Fills with her rage, and warms with all her fires; force ·O'er all the Greeks decrees his fame to raise, Above the Greeks her warrior's fame to raife, his deathlefs And crown her hero with immortal praise : distinguish'd Bright from his beamy creft the lightnings play, High on helm From his broad buckler flash'd the living ray, High on his helm celeftial lightnings play, The Goddess with her breath the flame fupplies, When first he rears his radiant orb to fight, And bath'd in ocean fhoots a keener light. Such glories Pallas on the chief beftow'd, Such from his arms the fierce effulgence flow'd; F 2 Onward Onward the drives him furious to engage, Where the fight burns, and where the thickeft rage. When fresh he rears his radiant orb to fight, And gilds old Occan with a blaze of light, Bright as the ftar that fires th' autumnal skies, Fresh from the deep, and gilds the feas and skies. Such glories Pallas on her chief beftow'd, Such fparkling rays from his bright armour flow'd. Such from his arms the fierce effulgence flow’d. Onward the drives him headlong to engage, furious Where the war bleeds, and where the fierceft rage. fight burns thickest The fons of Dares firft the combat fought, A wealthy pricft, but rich without a fault; In |