"Now, valiant Lycomede! exert your might,
And, brave Oileus, prove your force in fight?
To you I trust the fortune of the field,
Till by this arin the foe shall be repell'd;
That done, expect me to complete the day❞—
Then, with his seven-fold shield, he strode away.
With equal steps bold Teucer press'd the shore,
Whose fatal bow the strong Pandion bore.

High on the walls appear'd the Lycian powers, Like some black tempest gathering round the towers;

The Greeks, oppress'd, their utmost force unite,
Prepar'd to labour in th' unequal fight;

The war renews, mix'd shouts and groans arise; Tumultuous clamour mounts, and thickens in the skies.

Fierce Ajax first th' advancing host invades,
And sends the brave Epicles to the shades,
Sarpedon's friend; across the warrior's way,
Rent from the walls, a rocky fragment lay;
In modern ages not the strongest swain

Could heave th' unwieldy burthen from the plain.
He pois'd, and swung it round; then, toss'd on high,
It flew with force, and labour'd up the sky;
Full on the Lycian's helmet thundering down,
The ponderous ruin crush'd his batter'd crown.
As skilful divers from some airy steep,
Headlong descend, and shoot into the deep,
So falls Epicles; then in groans expires,
And murmuring to the shades the soul retires.
While to the ramparts daring Glaucus drew,
From Tencer's hand a winged arrow flow;
The bearded shaft the destin'd passage found,
And on his naked arm inflicts a wound.
The chief, who fear'd some foe's insulting boast
Might stop the progress of his warlike host,
Conceal'd the wound, and, leaping from his height,
Retir'd reluctant from th' unfinish'd fight.
Divine Sarpedon with regret beheld
Disabled Glaucus slowly quit the field;
His beating breast with generous ardour glows,
He springs to fight, and flies upon the foes.
Alemaon first was doom'd his force to feel;
Deep in his breast he plung'd the pointed steel;
Then, from the yawning wound with fury tore
The spear, pursued by gushing streams of gore;
Down sinks the warrior with a thundering sound,
His brazen armour rings against the ground.
Swift to the battlement the victor flies,
Tugs with full force, and every nerve applies;
It shakes; the ponderous stones disjointed yield;
The rolling ruins smoke along the field.
A mighty breach appears, the walls lie bare;
And, like a deluge, rushes in the war.

At once bold Teucer draws the twanging bow,
And Ajax sends h's javelin at the foe:
Fix'd in his belt the feather'd weapon stood,
And thro' his buckler drove the trembling wood;
But Jove was present in the dire debate,
To shield his offspring, and avert his fate.
The prince gave back, not meditating flight,
But urging vengeance, and severer fight;
Then, rais'd with hope, and fir'd with glory's charms,
His fainting squadrons to new fury warms:
"O where, ye Lycians! is the strength you boast?
Your former fame and ancient virtue lost!

The breach lies open, but your chief in vain Attempts alone the guarded pass to gain; Unite, and soon that hostile fleet shall fall; The force of powerful union conquers all."

This just rebuke inflam'd the Lycian crew, They join, they thicken, and th' assault renew: Unmov'd th' embodied Greeks their fury dare, And, fix'd, support the weight of all the war; Nor could the Greeks repel the Lycian powers, Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian towers. As, on the confines of adjoining grounds, Two stubborn swains with blows dispute their bounds;

They tug, they sweat; but neither gain or yield,
One foot, one inch, of the contended field:
Thus obstinate to death they fight, they fall;
Nor these can keep, nor those can win, the wall.
Their manly breasts are pierc'd with many a wound,
Loud strokes are heard, and rattling arms resound,
The copious slaughter covers all the shore,
And the high ramparts drop with human gore.

As when two scales are charg'd with doubtful loads,

From side to side the trembling balance nods,
(While some laborious matron, just and poor,
With nice exactness weighs her woolly store)
Till, pois'd aloft, the resting beam suspends
Each equal weight, nor this, nor that, descends:
So stood the war, till Hector's matchless might,
With fates prevailing, turn'd the scale of fight.
Fierce as a whirlwind up the walls he flies,
And fires his host with loud repeated cries:
"Advance, ye 'Trojans! lend your valiant hands,
Haste to the fleet, and toss the blazing brands!"
They hear, they run; and, gathering at his call,
Raise scaling-engines, and ascend the wall:
Around the works a wood of glittering spears
Shoots up, and all the rising host appears.
A ponderous stone bold Hector heav'd to throw,
Pointed above, and rough and gross below:
Not two strong men th' enormous weight could raise,
Such men as live in these degenerate days;
Yet this, as easy as a swain could bear
The snowy fleece, he toss'd. and shook in air:
For Jove upheld, and lighten'd of its load
Th' unwieldy rock, the labour of a god.
Thus arm'd, before the folded gates he came,
Of massy substance, and stupendous frame;
With iron bars and brazen hinges strong,
On lofty beams of solid timber hung.
Then, thundering through the planks with forceful

sway,

Drives the sharp rock; the solid beams give way,
The folds are shatter'd; from the crackling door
Leap the resounding bars, the flying hinges roar.
Now rushing in, the furious chief appears,
Gloomy as night! and shakes two shining spears:
A dreadful gleam from his bright armour came,
And from his eye-balls fash'd the living flame.
He moves a god, resistless in his course,
And seems a match for more than mortal force.
Then pouring after, through the gaping space,
A tide of Trojans flows, and fills the place,
The Greeks behold, they tremble, and they fly;
The shore is heap'd with death, and tumult rends
the sky.

Then, as a falcon from the rocky height,
Her quarry seen, impetuous at the sight
Porth-springing instant, darts herself from high,
Shoots on the wing, and skims along the sky:
Such, and so swift, the power of ocean flew;
The wide horizon shut him from their view.
Th' inspiring god, Oïleus' active son
Perceiv'd the first, and thus to Telamon:

"Some god, my friend, some god in human form
Favouring descends, and wills to stand the storm.
Not Calchas this, the venerable seer;
Short as he turn'd, I saw the power appear:
I mark'd his parting, and the steps he trod;
His own bright evidence reveals a god;
Ev'n now some energy divine I share,

And seem to walk on wings, and tread in air!”
"With equal ardour" (Telamon returns)
"My soul is kindled, and my bosom burns:
New rising spirits all my force alarm,

Lift each impatient limb, and brace my arm.
This ready arm, unthinking, shakes the dart;
The blood pours back, and fortifies my heart.
Singly, methinks, yon towering chief I meet,
And stretch the dreadful Hector at my feet."
Full of the god that urg'd their burning breast,
The heroes thus their mutual warmth express'd.
Neptune mean-while the routed Greeks inspir'd,
Who, breathless, pale, with length of labours tir'd,
Pant in the ships; while Troy to conquest calls,
And swarms victorious o'er their yielding walls:
Trembling before th' impending storm they lie,
While tears of rage stand burning in their eye.
Greece sunk they thought, and this their fatal hour;
But breathe new courage as they feel the power.
Teucer and Leitus first his words excite;
Then stern Peneleus rises to the fight;
Thoas, Deipyrus, in arms renown'd,
And Merion next, th' impulsive fury found;
Last Nestor's son the same bold ardour takes,
While thus the god the martial fire awakes:

"Oh, lasting infamy! oh, dire disgrace,
To chiefs of vigorous youth and manly race!
I trusted in the gods, and you, to see
Brave Greece victorious, and her navy free:
Ah no!-the glorious comba: you disclaim,
And one black day clouds all her former fame.
Heavens! what a prodigy these eyes survey,
Unsern, unthought, till this amazing day!
Fly we at length from Troy's oft-conquer'd bands?
And falls our fleet by such inglorious hands?
A rout undisciplin'd, a straggling train,
Not born to glories of the dusty plain;
Like frighted fawns, from hill to hill pursued,
A prey to every savage of the wood:

Shall these, so late who trembled at your name, Invade your camps, involve your ships in flame? A change so shameful, say, what cause has wrought? The soldier's baseness, or the general's fault? Fools! will ye perish for your leader's vice; The purchase infamy, and life the price? Tis not your cause, Achilles' injur'd fame: Another's is the crime, but yours the shame. Grant that our chief offend through rage or lust, Must you be cowards if your king's unjust? Prevent this evil, and your country save: Small thought retrieves the spirits of the brave. Tank, and subdue! on dastards dead to faine I waste no anger, for they feel no shame : But you, the pride, the flower of all our host, My heart weeps blood to see your glory lost!

Nor deem this day, this battle, all you lose;
A day more black, a fate more vile, ensues.
Let each reflect, who prizes fame or breath,
On endless infamy, on instant death,
For lo! the fated time, th' appointed shore;
Hark! the gates burst, the brazen barriers roar!
Impetuous Hector thunders at the wall;

The hour, the spot, to conquer, or to fall."

These words the Grecians fainting hearts in

spire,

And listening armies catch the godlike fire.
Fix'd at his post was each bold Ajax found,
With well-rang'd squadrons strongly circled round:
So close their order, so dispos'd their fight,
As Pallas' self might view with fix'd delight;
Or had the god of war inclin'd his eyes,"
The god of war bad own'd a just surprise.
A chosen phalanx, firm, resolv'd as fate,
Descending Hector and his battle wait.
An iron scene gleams dreadful o'er the fields,
Armour in armour lock'd, and shields in shields,
Spears lean on spears, on targets targets throng,
Helms stuck to helms, and man drove man along.
The floating plumes unnumber'd wave above,
As when an earthquake stirs the nodding grove;
And, levell'd at the skies with pointing rays,
Their brandish'd lances at each motion blaze.

Thus breathing death, in terrible array,
The close-compacted legions urg'd their way:
Fierce they drove on, impatient to destroy;
Troy charg'd the first, and Hector first of Troy.
As from some mountain's craggy forehead torn,
A rock's round fragment flies, with fury borne
(Which from the stubborn stone a torrent rends)
Precipitate the ponderous mass descends:
From steep to steep the rolling ruin bounds;
At every shock the crackling wood resounds;
Still gathering force, it smokes; and, urg'd amain,
Whirls, leaps, and thunders down, impetuous to the
plain :
[prov'd,

There stops-So Hector. Their whole force he Resistless when he rag'd, and when he stopt, un

mov'd.

On him the war is bent, the darts are shed, And all their falchions wave around his head : Repuls'd, he stands, nor from his stand retires; But with repeated shouts his army fires. "Trojans! be firm; this arm shall make your way Through yon square body, and that black array. Stand, and my spear shall rout their scattering

power,

Strong as they seem, embattled like a tower.
For he that Juno's heavenly bosom warms,
The first of gods, this day inspires our arms."

He said, and rous'd the soul in every breast;
Urg'd with desire of fame, beyond the rest,
Forth march'd Deïphobus; but, marching, held
Before his wary steps his ample shield.
Bold Merion aim'd a stroke (nor aim'd it wide)
The glittering javelin pierc'd the tough bull-hide;
But pierc'd not through: unfaithful to his hand,
The point broke short, and sparkled in the sand.
The Trojan warrior, touch'd with timely fear,
On the rais'd orb to distance bore the spear:
The Greek, retreating, mourn'd his frustrate blow,
And curs'd the treacherous lance that spar'd a foe:
Then to the ships with surly speed he went,
To seek a surer javelin in his tent.

Meanwhile with rising rage the battle glows, The tumult thickens, and the clamour grows.

A dropping sweat creeps cold on every part,
Against his bosom beats his quivering heart;
Terrour and death in his wild eye-balls stare;
With chattering teeth he stands, and stiffening hair,
And looks a bloodless image of despair!
Not so the brave-still dauntless, still the same,
Unchang'd his colour, and unmov'd his frame;
Compos'd his thought, determin'd is his eye,
And fix'd his soul, to conquer or to die :
If aught disturb the tenour of his breast,
'Tis but the wish to strike before the rest.

“In such assays thy blameless worth is known, And every art of dangerous war thy own.

By chance of fight whatever wounds you bore,
Those wounds were glorious all, and all before;
Such as may teach, 'twas still thy brave delight
Toppose thy bosom where the foremost fight.
But why, like infants, cold to honour's charms,
Stand we to talk, when glory calls to arms?
Go-from my conquer'd spears the choicest take,
And to their owners send them nobly back."
Swift as the word bold Merion snatch'd a spear,
And, breathing slaughter, follow'd to the war.
So Mars armipotent invades the plain
(The wide destroyer of the race of man.)
Terrour, his best-lov'd son, attends his course,
Arm'd with stern boldness, and enormous force;
The pride of haughty warriors to confound,
And lay the strength of tyrants on the ground:
From Thrace they fly, call'd to the dire alarms
Of warring Phlegyians, and Ephyrian arms;
Javok'd by both, relentless, they dispose
To these glad conquest, murderous rout to those.
So march'd the leaders of the Cretan train,
And their bright arms shot horrour o'er the plain.
Then first spake Merion: “Shall we join the
right,

Or combat in the centre of the fight?

Or to the left our wanted succour lend?
Hazard and fame all parts alike attend."
"Not in the centre," Idomen reply'd:
"Our ablest chieftains the main battle guide;
Each godlike Ajax makes that post his care,
And gallant Teucer deals destruction there:
Skill'd, or with shafts to gall the distant field,
Or bear close battle on the sounding shield.
These can the rage of haughty Hector tame:
Safe in their arms, the navy fears no flame;
Till Jove himself descends, his bolts to shed,
And hurl the blazing ruin at our head.
Great must he be, of more than human birth,
Nor feed like mortals on the fruits of earth;
Him neither rocks can crush, nor steel can wound,
Whom Ajax fells not on th' ensanguin'd ground:
In standing fight he mates Achilles' force,
Excell'd alone in swiftness in the course.
Then to the left our ready arms apply,
And live with glory, or with glory die."

He said; and Merion to th' appointed place,
Fierce as the god of battles, urg'd his pace.
Soon as the foe the shining chiefs beheld
Rush like a fiery torrent o'er the field,
Their force embodied in a tide they pour;
The rising combat sounds along the shore.
As warring winds, in Sirius' sultry reign,
From different quarters sweep the sandy plain;
On every side the dusty whirlwinds rise,
And the dry fields are lifted to the skies:
Thus, by despair, hope, rage, together driven,
Biet the black hosts, and, meeting, darken'd Heaven.

All dreadful glar'd the iron face of war,
Bristled with upright spears, that flash'd afar;
Dire was the gleam of breast-plates, helms, and
shields,

And polish'd arms emblaz'd the flaming fields;
Tremendous scene! that general horrour gave,
But touch'd with joy the bosoms of the brave.

Saturn's great sons in fierce contention vy'd,
And crowds of heroes in their anger dy'd.
The sire of Earth and Heaven, by Thetis won
To crown with glory Peleus' god-like son,
Will'd not destruction to the Grecian powers,
But spar'd a while the destin'd Trojan towers:
While Neptune, rising from his azure main,
Warr'd on the king of Heaven with stern disdain,
And breath'd revenge, and fir'd the Grecian train.
Gods of one source, of one ethereal race,
Alike divine, and Heaven their native place;
But Jove the greater; first-born of the skies,
And more than men, or gods, supremely wise.
For this, of Jove's superior might afraid,
Neptune in human form conceal'd his aid.
These powers infold the Greek and Trojan train
In war and discord's adamantine chain,
Indissolubly strong; the fatal tye

Is stretch'd on both, and, close-compell'd, they die,
Dreadful in arms, and grown in combats gray,
The bold Idomeneus controls the day.
First by his hand Othryoneus was slain,
Swell'd with false hopes, with mad ambition vain!
Call'd by the voice of war to martial fame,
From high Cabesus' distant walls he came;
Cassandra's love he sought, with boasts of power,
And promis'd conquest was the proffer'd dower.
The king consented, by his vaunts abus'd;
The king consented, but the fates refus'd."
Proud of himself, and of th' imagin'd bride,
The field he measur'd with a larger stride.
Him, as he stalk'd, the Cretan javelin found;
Vain was his breast-plate to repel the wound:
His dream of glory lost, he plung'd to Hell:
His arms resounded as the boaster fell.

The great Idomeņeus bestrides the dead;
"And thus," he cries, " behold thy promise sped!
Such is the help thy arms to Ilion bring,
And such the contract of the Phrygian king!
Our offers now, illustrious prince! receive;
For such an aid what will not Argos give?
To conquer Troy, with ours thy forces join,
And count Atrides' fairest daughter thine.
Meantime, op farther methods to advise,
Come, follow to the fleet thy new allies:
There hear what Greece has on her part to say.”
He spoke, and dragg'd the gory corse away.
This Asius view'd, unable to contain,
Before his chariot warring on the plain;
(His crowded coursers, to his squire consign'd,
Impatient panted on his neck behind)
To vengeance rising with a sudden spring,
He hop'd the conquest of the Cretan king.
The wary Cretan, as his foe drew near,
Full on his throat discharg'd the forceful spear:
Beneath the chin the point was seen to glide,
`And glitter'd, extant at the farther side.
As when the mountain-oak, or poplar tall,
Or pine, fit mast for some great admiral,
Groans to the oft-heav'd ax, with many a wound
Then spreads a length of ruin o'er the ground:
So sunk proud Asius in that dreadful day,
And stretch'd before his much-lov coursers lay