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And famed for prowess in a well-fought field;
He pierced the centre of his sounding shield:
But Meges Phyleus' ample breast-plate wore
(Well known in fight on Selle's winding shore;
For king Euphetes gave the golden mail,
Compact, and firm with many a jointed scale ;)
Which oft, in cities storm'd, and battles won,
Had saved the father, and now saves the son.
Full at the Trojan's head he urged his lance,
Where the high plumes above the helmet dance,
New tinged with Tyrian dye; in dust below,
Shorn from the crest, the purple honours glow.
Meantime their fight the Spartan king survey'd,
And stood by Meges' side, a sudden aid,
Through Dolops' shoulder urged his forceful dart,
Which held its passage through the panting heart,
And issued at his breast. With thundering sound
The warrior falls, extended on the ground.
In rush the conquering Greeks to spoil the slain:
But Hector's voice excites his kindred train;
The hero most, from Hicetaon sprung,
Fierce Melanippus, gallant, brave, and young;
He (ere to Troy the Grecians cross'd the main)
Fed his large oxen on Percotè's plain;
But when, oppress'd, his country claim'd his care,
Return'd to Ilion, and excell'd in war;
For this, in Priam's court he held his place,
Beloved no less than Priam's royal race.
Him Hector singled, as his troops he led,
And thus inflamed him, pointing to the dead :
Lo, Melanippus! lo where Dolops lies;
And is it thus our royal kinsman dies?
O'ermatch'd he falls; to two at once a prey,
And lo! they bear the bloody arms away!
Come on a distant war no longer wage,
But hand to hand thy country's foes engage:
Till Greece at once, and all her glory end,
Or Ilion from her towery height descend,
Heaved from the lowest stone; and bury all
In one sad sepulchre, one common fall.

700

Advancing Melanippus met the dart
With his bold breast, and felt it in his heart;
Thundering he falls; his falling arms resound,
And his broad buckler rings against the ground.
The victor leaps upon his prostrate prize;
Thus on a roe the well-breathed beagle flies,
630 And rends his side, fresh-bleeding with the dart
The distant hunter sent into his heart.
Observing Hector to the rescue flew;
Bold as he was, Antilochus withdrew.
So when a savage, ranging o'er the plain,
Has torn the shepherd's dog, or shepherd swain,
While, conscious of the deed, he glares around,
And hears the gathering multitude resound,
Timely he flies the yet untasted food,
And gains the friendly shelter of the wood.
So fears the youth; all Troy with shouts pursue,
641 While stones and darts in mingled tempests flew;
But enter'd in the Grecian ranks, he turns
His manly breast, and with new fury burns.
Now on the fleet the tides of Trojans drove,
Fierce to fulfil the stern decrees of Jove:
The sire of gods, confirming Thetis prayer,
The Grecian ardour quench'd in deep despair;
But lifts to glory Troy's prevailing bands,
Swells all their hearts and strengthens all their hands.
650 On Ida's top he waits with longing eyes,

710

To view the navy blazing to the skies;
Then, nor till then, the scale of war shall turn, 730
The Trojans fly, and conquer'd Ilion burn.
These fates revolved in his almighty mind,
He raises Hector to the work design'd,
Bids him with more than mortal fury glow,
And drives him, like a lightning, on the foe.
So Mars, when human crimes for vengeance call,
Shakes his huge javelin, and whole armies fall.
660 Not with more rage a conflagration rolls,

Wraps the vast mountains, and involves the poles.
He foams with wrath; beneath his gloomy brow 730
Like fiery meteors his red eye-balls glow :
The radiant helmet on his temples burns,
Waves when he nods, and lightens as he turns:
For Jove his splendour round the chief had thrown,
And cast the blaze of both the hosts on one.
Unhappy glories! for his fate was near,
Due to stern Pallas, and Pelides' spear:
670 Yet Jove deferr'd the death he was to pay,
And gave what Fate allowed, the honours of a day!
Now all on fire for fame, his breast, his eyes 740
Burn at each foe, and single every prize,
Still at the closest ranks, the thickest fight,
He points his ardour and exerts his might.
The Grecian phalanx, moveless as a tower,
On all sides batter'd, yet resists his power:
So some tall rock o'erhangs the hoary main,
By winds assail'd, by billows beat in vain,
680 Unmoved it hears, above, the tempest blow,
And sees the watery mountains break below.
Girt in surrounding flames, he seems to fall,
Like fire from Jove, and bursts upon them all:
Bursts as a wave that from the clouds impends,
And swell'd with tempests on the ship descends;
White are the decks with foam; the winds aloud
Howl o'er the masts, and sing through every shroud
Pale, trembling, tired, the sailors freeze with fears:
And instant death on every wave appears.
690 So pale the Greeks the eyes of Hector meet,
The chief so thunders, and so shakes the fleet.

Hector (this said) rush'd forward on the foes:
With equal ardour Melanippus glows.
Then Ajax thus-Oh Greeks! respect your fame,
Respect yourselves, and learn an honest shame:
Let mutual reverence mutual warmth inspire,
And catch from breast to breast the noble fire.
On valour's side the odds of combat lie,
The brave live glorious, or lamented die ;
The wretch that trembles in the field of fame,
Meets death, and worse than death, eternal shame.
His generous sense he not in vain imparts;
It sunk, and rooted in the Grecian hearts;
They join, they throng, they thicken at his call,
And flank the navy with a brazen wall;
Shields touching shields, in order blaze above,
And stop the Trojans though impell'd by Jove.
The fiery Spartan first, with loud applause,
Warms the bold son of Nestor in his cause.
Is there (he said) in arms a youth like you,
So strong to fight, so active to pursue?
Why stand you distant, nor attempt a deed?
Lift thy bold lance, and make some Trojan bleed.
He said; and backward to the lines retired;
Forth rush'd the youth, with martial fury fired,
Beyond the foremost ranks; his lance he threw,
And round the black battalions cast his view.
The troops of Troy recede with sudden fear,
While the swift javelin hiss'd along in air.

750

As when a lion rushing from his den,
Amidst the plain of some wide-water'd fen,
(Where numerous oxen, as at ease they feed,
At large expatiate o'er the ranker mead,)
Leaps on the herds before the herdsman's eyes:
The trembling herdsman far to distance flies:
Some lordly bull (the rest dispersed and fled)
He singles out; arrests, and lays him dead.
Thus from the rage of Jove-like Hector flew
All Greece in heaps; but one he seized, and slew:
Mycenian Periphes, a mighty name,

In wisdom great, in arms well known to fame ;
The minister of stern Eurystheus' ire,
Against Alcides, Copreus was his sire:
The son redeem'd the honours of the race,
A son as generous as the sire was base;
O'er all his country's youth conspicuous far
In every virtue, or of peace or war:
But doom'd to Hector's stronger force to yield!
Against the margin of his ample shield
He struck his hasty foot: his heels up-sprung;
Supine he fell; his brazen helmet rung.
On the fallen chief the invading Trojan press'd,
And plunged the pointed javelin in his breast.
His circling friends, who strove to guard too late
The unhappy hero, fled, or shared his fate.

770

830

760 And now to this, and now to that he flies:
Admiring numbers follow with their eyes.
From ship to ship thus Ajax swiftly flew,
No less the wonder of the warring crew,
As furious Hector thunder'd threats aloud,
And rush'd enraged before the Trojan crowd:
Then swift invades the ships, whose beaky prores
Lay rank'd contiguous on the bending shores:
So the strong eagle from his airy height,
Who marks the swans' or cranes' embodied flight,
Stoops down impetuous, while they light for food,
And, stooping, darkens with his wings the flood.
Jove leads him on with his almighty hand,
And breathes fierce spirits in his following band.
The warring nations meet, the battle roars,
Thick beats the combat on the sounding prores.
Thou wouldst have thought, so furious was their fire,
No force could tame them, and no toil could tire;
As if new vigour from new fights they won,
And the long battle was but then begun.
780 Greece yet unconquer'd, kept alive the war,
Secure of death, confiding in despair;

790

Chased from the foremost line, the Grecian train
Now man the next, receding toward the main :
Wedged in one body at the tents they stand,
Wall'd round with sterns, a gloomy desperate band.
Now manly shame forbids the inglorious flight;
Now fear itself confines them to the fight:
Man courage breathes in man; but Nestor most
(The sage preserver of the Grecian host)
Exhorts, adjures, to guard these utmost shores;
And by their parents, by themselves, implores.

800

O friends! be men: your generous breasts inflame
With equal honour, and with mutual shame!
Think of your hopes, your fortunes; all the care
Your wives, your infants, and your parents share :
Think of each living father's reverend head:
Think of each ancestor with glory dead;
Absent, by me they speak, by me they sue;
They ask their safety, and their fame from you:
The gods their fates on this one action lay,
And all are lost, if you desert the day.

He spoke, and round him breathed heroic fires;
Minerva seconds what the sage inspires.
The mist of darkness Jove around them threw
She clear'd, restoring all the war to view;
A sudden ray shot beaming o'er the plain,
And show'd the shores, the navy, and the main:
Hector they saw, and all who fly, or fight,
The scene wide-opening to the blaze of light.
First of the field, great Ajax strikes their eyes,
His port majestic, and his ample size :

A ponderous mace, with studs of iron crown'd,
Full twenty cubits long, he swings around;
Nor fights like others fix'd to certain stands,
But looks a moving tower above the bands:
High on the deck, with vast gigantic stride,
The godlike hero stalks from side to side.
So when a horseman from the watery mead
(Skill'd in the manage of the bounding steed)
Drives four fair coursers, practised to obey,
To some great city through the public way;
Safe in his art, as side by side they run,

He shifts his seat, and vaults from one to one;

840

Troy, in proud hopes, already view'd the main 850
Bright with the blaze, and red with heroes slain!
Like strength is felt from hope and from despair,
And each contends, as his were all the war.

'Twas thou, bold Hector! whose resistless hand
First seized a ship on that contested strand;
The same which dead Protesilaiis bore,
The first that touch'd the unhappy Trojan shore:
For this in arms the warring nations stood,
And bathed their generous breasts with mutual blood.
No room to poise the lance or bend the bow, 860
But hand to hand, and man to man they grow:
Wounded they wound; and seek each other's hearts
With falchions, axes, swords, and shorten'd darts.
The falchions ring, shields rattle, axes sound,
Swords flash in air, or glitter on the ground:
With streaming blood the slippery shores are dyed,
And slaughter'd heroes swell the dreadful tide.
Still raging Hector with his ample hand
Grasps the high stern, and gives his loud command:
Haste, bring the flames! the toil of ten long years
Is finish'd! and the day desired appears!
This happy day with acclamations greet,
Bright with destruction of yon hostile fleet.
The coward counsels of a timorous throng
Of reverend dotards, check'd our glory long:
Too long Jove lull'd us with lethargic charms,
But now in peals of thunder calls to arms:
810 In this great day he crowns our full desires,
Wakes all our force, and seconds all our fires.
He spoke-the warriors, at his fierce command, 88C
Pour a new deluge on the Grecian band.
E'en Ajax paused (so thick the javelins fly,)
Stepp'd back, and doubted or to live or die.
Yet where the oars are placed, he stands to wait
What chief approaching dares attempt his fate:
E'en to the last his naval charge defends,

871

890

Now shakes his spear, now lifts, and now protends;
820 E'en yet the Greeks with piercing shouts inspires,
Amidst attacks, and deaths, and darts, and fires:
O friends! O heroes! names for ever dear,
Once sons of Mars, and thunderbolts of war!
Ah! yet be mindful of your old renown,
Your great forefathers' virtues and your own
What aids expect you in this utmost strait?
What bulwarks rising between you and fate?

No aids, no bulwarks, your retreat attend;
No friends to help, no city to defend :
This spot is all you have, to lose or keep;
There stand the Trojans, and here rolls the deep
'Tis hostile ground you tread; your native lands 900
Far, far from hence: your fates are in your hands.

Raging he spoke; nor farther wastes his breath,
But turns his javelin to the work of death.
Whate'er bold Trojan arm'd his daring hands,
Against the sable ships with flaming brands;
So well the chief his naval weapon sped,
The luckless warrior at his stern lay dead:
Full twelve, the boldest, in a moment fell,
Sent by great Ajax to the shades of hell.

BOOK XVI.

ARGUMENT.

The sixth Battle; the Acts and Death of Patroclus. Patroclus (in pursuance of the request of Nestor in the eleventh book) entreats Achilles to suffer him to go to the assistance of the Greeks with Achilles' troops and

Whate'er the cause, reveal thy secret care,

30

And speak those sorrows which a friend would share.
A sigh, that instant, from his bosom broke,
Another follow'd, and Patroclus spoke:
Let Greece at length with pity touch thy breast,
Thyself a Greek; and, once, of Greeks the best!
Lo! every chief that might her fate prevent,
Lies pierced with wounds, and bleeding in his tent.
Eurypylus, Tydides, Atreus' son,

And wise Ulysses, at the navy groan,

More for their country's wounds, than for their own
Their pain, soft arts of pharmacy can ease,
Thy breast alone no lenitives appease.
May never rage like thine my soul enslave,

40

O great in vain! unprofitably brave!
Thy country slighted in her last distress,
What friend, what man, from thee shall hope redress?
No-men unborn, and ages yet behind,

Shall curse that fierce, that unforgiving mind. O man unpitying! if of man thy race; But sure thou spring'st not from a soft embrace, Nor ever amorous hero caused thy birth, Nor ever tender goddess brought thee forth. Some rugged rock's hard entrails gave thee form, 55 And raging seas produced thee in a storm, armour. He agrees to it, but at the same time charges him to content himself with rescuing the fleet, with- A soul well-suiting that tempestuous kind, out further pursuit of the enemy. The armour, horses, So rough thy manners, so untamed thy mind. soldiers, and officers of Achilles are described. Achil. If some dire oracle thy breast alarm,

les offers a libation for the success of his friend, after If aught from Jove, or Thetis, stop thy arm, which Patroclus leads the Myrmidons to battle. The Some beam of comfort yet on Greece may shine, Trojans, at the sight of Patroclus in Achilles's armour, If I but lead the Myrmidonian line: taking him for that hero, are cast into the utmost con- Clad in thy dreadful arms if I appear, sternation: he beats them off from the vessels. Hector Proud Troy shall tremble, and desert the war: himself flies. Sarpedon is killed, though Jupiter was averse to his fate. Several other particulars of the Without thy person Greece shall win the day, battle are described; in the heat of which, Patroclus, And thy mere image chace her foes away. neglecting the orders of Achilles, pursues the foe to Press'd by fresh forces, her o'erlabour'd train the walls of Troy; where Apollo repulses and disarms Shall quit the ships, and Greece respire again. him, Euphorbus wounds him, and Hector kills him; which concludes the book.

BOOK XVI.

So warr'd both armies on the ensanguined shore,
While the black vessels smoked with human gore.
Meantime Patroclus to Achilles flies;

The streaming tears fall copious from his eyes;
Not faster trickling to the plains below,
From the tall rock the sable waters flow.
Divine Pelides, with compassion moved,
Thus spoke, indulgent to his best beloved:
Patroclus, say, what grief thy bosom bears,
That flows so fast in these unmanly tears?
No girl, no infant whom the mother keeps
From her loved breast, with fonder passion weeps;
Not more the mother's soul that infant warms,
Clung to her knees, and reaching at her arms,
Than thou hast mine! Oh tell me, to what end
Thy melting sorrows thus pursue thy friend?
Grievest thou for me, or for my martial band?
Or come sad tidings from our native land?
Our fathers live (our first, most tender care,)
The good Mencetius breathes the vital air,
And hoary Peleus yet extends his days;
Pleased in their age to hear their children's praise.
Or may some meaner cause thy pity claim?
Perhaps yon relics of the Grecian name,
Doom'd in their ships to sink by fire and sword,
And pay the forfeit of their haughty lord?

Thus, blind to Fate! with supplicating breath,
Thou begg'st his arms, and in his arms thy death,
Unfortunately good! a boding sigh
Thy friend return'd; and with it this reply:

60

70

Patroclus! thy Achilles knows no fears;
Nor words from Jove, nor oracles he hears;
Nor aught a mother's caution can suggest;
The tyrant's pride lies rooted in my breast.
My wrongs, my wrongs, my constant thought engage,
Those, my sole oracles, inspire my rage.

I made him tyrant: gave him power to wrong
E'en me: I felt it: and shall feel it long.
The maid, my black-eyed maid, he forced away,
Due to the toils of many a well-fought day;
10 Due to my conquest of her father's reign;
Due to the votes of all the Grecian train.
From me he forced her; me, the bold and brave; 80
Disgraced, dishonour'd, like the meanest slave.
But bear we this-the wrongs I grieve are past:
'Tis time our fury should relent at last :
I fix'd its date; the day I wish'd appears:
Now Hector to my ships his battle bears,
The flames my eyes, the shouts invade my ears
Go, then, Patroclus! court fair honour's charms
20 In Troy's famed fields, and in Achilles' arms:
Lead forth my martial Myrmidons to fight,
Go, save the fleets, and conquer in my right.
See the thin reliques of their baffled band,
At the last edge of yon deserted land!
Behold all Ilion on their ships descends;
How the cloud blackens, how the storm impends!

90

It was not thus, when at my sight amazed,
Troy saw and trembled, as this helmet blazed:
Had not the injurious king our friendship lost,
Yon ample trench had buried half her host.
No camps, no bulwarks, now the Trojans fear,
Those are not dreadful, no Achilles there:
No longer flames the lance of Tydeus' son;
No more your general calls his heroes on;
Hector, alone, I hear; his dreadful breath

He cased his limbs in brass; and first around
His manly legs with silver buckles bound
The clasping greaves; then to his breast applies
The flaming cuirass, of a thousand dyes;
Emblazed with studs of go.d his falchion shone
100 In the rich belt, as in the starry zone:

Achilles' shield his ample shoulders spread,
Achilles' helmet nodded o'er his head:
Adorn'd in all his terrible array,

Commands your slaughter, or proclaims your death. He flash'd around intolerable day.

Alone, untouch'd, Pelides' javelin stands,
Not to be poised but by Pelides' hands;
From Pelion's shady brow the plant entire,
Old Chiron rent, and shaped it for his sire;
Whose son's great arm alone the weapon wields,
110 The death of heroes and the dread of fields.

Yet now, Patroclus, issue to the plain;
Now save the ships, the rising fires restrain,
And give the Greeks to visit Greece again.
But heed my words, and mark a friend's command,
Who trusts his fame and honours in thy hand,
And from thy deeds expects the Achaian host
Shall render back the beauteous maid he lost.
Rage uncontroll'd through all the hostile crew,
But touch not Hector; Hector is my due.
Though Jove in thunder should command the war,
Be just, consult my glory, and forbear.

The fleet once saved, desist from farther chase,
Nor lead to lion's walls the Grecian race;
Some adverse god thy rashness may destroy;
Some god, like Phoebus, ever kind to Troy.

Then brave Automedon (an honour'd name,
The second to his lord in love and fame,
In peace his friend, and partner of the war)
The winged coursers harness'd to the car;
Xanthus and Balius, of immortal breed,
Sprung from the wind, and like the wind in speed;
Whom the wing'd Harpy, swift Podargè, bore,
By Zephyr pregnant on the breezy shore:
Swift Pedasus was added to their side

Let Greece redeem'd from this destructive strait, 120 (Once great Aëtion's, now Achilles' pride,)

Do her own work; and leave the rest to Fate.

Oh! would to all the immortal powers above,
Apollo, Pallas, and almighty Jove,

That not one Trojan might be left alive,
And not a Greek of all the race survive;
Might only we the vast destruction shun,
And only we destroy the accursed town.

Such conference held the chiefs: while on the
strand,

Who, like in strength, in swiftness, and in grace,
A mortal courser, match'd the immortal race.
Achilles speeds from tent to tent, and warns
His hardy Myrmidons to blood and arms.
All breathing death, around their chief they stand,
A grim, terrific, formidable band:

170

180

190

Grim as voracious wolves, that seek the springs,
When scalding thirst their burning bowels wrings;
When some tall stag, fresh slaughter'd in the wood,
Has drench'd their wild insatiate throats with blood,
130 To the black fount they rush, a hideous throng,
With paunch distended, and with lolling tongue;
Fire fills their eye, their black jaws belch the gore,
And, gorged with slaughter, still they thirst for
201

more.

Like furious rush'd the Myrmidonian crew,
Such their dread strength, and such their dreadful
view.

High in the midst the great Achilles stands,
Directs their order, and the war commands.
140 He, loved of Jove, had launch'd for Ilion's shores
Ful! fifty vessels, mann'd with fifty oars:
Five chosen leaders the fierce bands obey,
Himself supreme in valour as in sway.

Great Jove with conquest crown'd the Trojan band.
Ajax no more the sounding storm sustain'd,
So thick the darts an iron tempest rain'd:
On his tired arm the weighty buckler hung;
His hollow helm with falling javelins rung;
His breath, in quick, short pantings, comes and goes;
And painful sweat from all his members flows:
Spent and o'erpower'd, he barely breathes at most;
Yet scarce an army stirs him from his post:
Dangers on dangers all around him grow,
And toil to toil, and woe succeeds to woe.
Say, Muses, throned above the starry frame,
How first the navy blazed with Trojan flame?
Stern Hector waved his sword; and standing near
Where furious Ajax plied his ashen spear,
Full on the lance a stroke so justly sped,
That the broad falchion lopp'd its brazen head:
His pointless spear the warrior shakes in vain;
The brazen head falls sounding on the plain.
Great Ajax saw, and own'd the hand divine,
Confessing Jove, and trembling at the sign;
Warn'd he retreats. Then swift on all sides pour 150
The hissing brands; thick streams the fiery shower;
O'er the high stern the curling volumes rise,
And sheets of rolling smoke involve the skies.
Divine Achilles view'd the rising flames,
And smote his thigh, and thus aloud exclaims:
Arm, arm, Patroclus! Lo, the blaze aspires!
The glowing ocean reddens with the fires.
Arm, ere our vessels catch the spreading flame;
Arm, ere the Grecians be no more a name;
I haste to bring the troops-the hero said;
The friend with ardour and with joy obey'd.

First march'd Menestheus, of celestial birth, 210
Derived from thee, whose waters wash the earth,
Divine Spirchius! Jove-descending flood!
A mortal mother mixing with a god.
Such was Menestheus, but miscall'd by fame
The son of Borus, that espoused the dame.

Eudorus next; whom Polymele the gay,
Famed in the graceful dance, produced to day.
Her, sly Cyllenius loved, on her would gaze,
As with swift step she form'd the running maze
To her high chamber from Diana's quire,
The god pursued her, urged, and crown'd his fire.
The son confess'd his father's heavenly race,
And heir'd his mother's swiftness in the chase.
Strong Echecleus, bless'd in all those charms
That pleased a god, succeeded to her arms;
160 Not conscious of those loves, long hid from fame,
With gifts of price he sought and won the dame;

220

Her secret offspring to her sire she bare;
Her sire caress'd him with a parent's care.
Pisander follow'd; matchless in his art
To wing the spear or aim the distant dart;
No hand so sure of all the Emathian line,
Or if a surer, great Patroclus! thine.

Lo, to the dangers of the fighting field!
The best, the dearest of my friends, I yield:
230 Though still determined, to my ships confined;
Patroclus gone, I stay but half behind.
Oh! be his guard thy providential care,
Confirm his heart, and string his arm to war:

The fourth by Phoenix' grave command was graced; Pressed by his single force let Hector see
Laërces' valiant offspring led the last.

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250

Lo there the Trojans! bathe your swords in gore!
This day shall give you all your soul demands;
Glut all you hearts! and weary all your hands!
Thus while he roused the fire in every breast,
Close, and more close, the listening cohorts press'd;
Ranks wedged in ranks; of arms a steely ring
Still grows, and spreads, and thickens round the king.
As when a circling wall the builder forms,
Of strength defensive against winds and storms,
Compacted stones the thickening work compose,
And round him wide the rising structure grows:
So helm to helm, and crest to crest they throng, 260
Shield urged on shield, and man drove man along;'
Thick, undistinguish'd plumes, together join'd,
Float in one sea, and wave before the wind.

270

Far o'er the rest, in glittering pomp appear
There bold Automedon, Patroclus here;
Brothers in arms, with equal fury fired;
Two friends, two bodies with one soul inspired.
But mindful of the gods, Achilles went
To the rich coffer in his shady tent;
There lay on heaps his various garments roll'd,
And costly furs, and carpets stiff with gold,
(The presents of the silver-footed dame.)
From thence he took a bowl of antique frame,
Which never man had stain'd with ruddy wine,
Nor raised in offerings to the powers divine,
But Peleus' son, and Peleus' son to none
Had raised in offerings, but to Jove alone.
This tinged with sulphur, sacred first to flame,
He purged; and wash'd it in the running stream:
Then cleansed his hands; and fixing for a space
His eyes on heaven, his feet upon the place
Of sacrifice, the purple draught he pour'd
Forth in the midst; and thus the god implored:
Oh thou Supreme! high throned all height above!
Oh great Pelasgic, Dodonæan Jove!

280

Who 'midst surrounding frosts, and vapours chill,
Presidest on bleak Dodona's vocal hill,
(Whose groves, the Selli, race austere ! surround,
Their feet unwash'd, their slumbers on the ground;
Who hear, from rustling oaks, thy dark decrees; 290
And catch the fates, low-whisper'd in the breeze :)
Hear, as of old! Thou gavest, at Thetis' prayer,
Glory to me, and to the Greeks despair.

300

310

His fame in arms not owing all to me.
But when the fleets are saved from foes and fire,
Let him with conquest and renown retire;
Preserve his arms, preserve his social train,
And safe return him to these eyes again!
Great Jove consents to half the chief's request,
But heaven's eternal doom denies the rest:
To free the fleet was granted to his prayer;
His safe return the winds dispersed in air.
Back to his tent the stern Achilles flies,
And waits the combat with impatient eyes.
Meanwhile the troops, beneath Patroclus' care,
Invade the Trojans, and commence the war.
As wasps, provoked by children in their play,
Pour from their mansions by the broad highway
In swarms the guiltless traveller engage,
Whet all their stings, and call forth all their rage;
All rise in arms, and with a general cry
Assert their waxen domes and buzzing progeny:
Thus from the tents the fervent legion swarms, 320
So loud their clamour, and so keen their arms.
Their rising rage Patroclus' breath inspires,
Who thus inflames them with heroic fires:

Oh warriors, partners of Achilles' praise!
Be mindful of your deeds in ancient days:
Your godlike mister let your acts proclaim,
And add new glories to his mighty name.
Think your Achilles sees you fight: be brave,
And humble the proud monarch whom you save
Joyful they heard, and kindling as he spoke, 330
Flew to the fleet, involved in fire and smoke.
From shore to shore the doubling shouts resound,
The hollow ships return a deeper sound.
The war stood still, and all around them gazed,
When great Achilles' shining armour blazed:
Troy saw, and thought the dread Achilles nigh;
At once they see, they tremble, and they fly.
Then first thy spear, divine Patroclus! flew,
Where the war raged, and where the tumult grew:
Close to the stern of that famed ship, which bore 310
Unbless'd Protesilaus to Ilion's shore,
The great Paonian, bold Pyræchmes, stood
(Who led his bands from Axius' winding flood;)
His shoulder-blade receives the fatal wound:
The groaning warrior pants upon the ground.
His troops, that see their country's glory slain,
Fly divers, scatter'd o'er the distant plain.
Patroclus' arm forbids the spreading fires,
And from the half-burn'd ship proud Troy retires:
Clear'd from the smoke the joyful navy lies;
In heaps on heaps the foe tumultuous flies;
Triumphant Greece her rescued decks ascends,
And loud acclaim the starry region rends.
So when thick clouds inwrap the mountain's head,
O'er heaven's expanse like one black ceding spread.
Sudden, the Thunderer, with a flashing ray,
Bursts through the darkness, and lets down the day
The hills shine out, the rocks in prospect rise,
And streams, and vales, and forests, strike the eyes:
The smiling scene wide opens to the sight,
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And all the unmeasured ather flames with light.

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