As on some ample barn's well-harden'd floor
(The winds collected at each open door),
While the broad fan with force is whirl'd around,
Light leaps the golden grain, resulting from the ground:
So from the steel that guards Atrides' heart,
Repell'd to distance flies the bounding dart.
Atrides, watchful of the unwary foe,
Pierced with his lance the hand that grasp'd the bow,
And nail'd it to the eugh: the wounded hand
Trail'd the long lance that mark'd with blood the sand:
But good Agenor gently from the wound
The spear solicits, and the bandage bound;
A sling's soft wool, snatch'd from a soldier's side,
At once the tent and ligature supplied.
Behold! Pisander. urged by Fate's decree,
Springs through the ranks to fall, and fall by thee,
Great Menelaus! to enhance thy fame;
High-towering in the front, the warrior came.
First the sharp lance was by Atrides thrown;
The lance far distant by the winds was blown.
Nor pierced Pisander through Atrides' shield;
Pisander's spear fell shiver'd on the field.
Not so discouraged, to the future blind,
Vain dreams of conquest swell his haughty mind:
Dauntless he rushes where the Spartan lord
Like lightning brandish'd his far-beaming sword.
His left arm high opposed the shining shield:
His right, beneath, the cover'd pole-axe held,
(An olive's cloudy grain the handle made,
Distinct with studs, and brazen was the blade);
This on the helm discharged a noble blow;
The plume dropp'd nodding to the plain below,
Shorn from the crest. Atrides waved his steel:
Deep through his front the weighty falchion fell;
The crashing bones before its force gave way;
In dust and blood the groaning hero lay;
Forced from their ghastly orbs, and spouting gore,
The clotted eye-balls tumble on the shore.
The fierce Atrides spurn'd him as he bled,
Tore off his arms, and, loud-exulting, said:
Thus, Trojans, thus, at length be taught to fear;
O race perfidious, who delight in war!
Already noble deeds ye have perform'd,
A princess raped transcends a navy storm'd:
In such bold feats your impious might approve,
Without the assistance or the fear of Jove.
The violated rites, the ravish'd dame,
Our heroes slaughter'd, and our ships on fame,
Crimes heap'd on crimes, shall bend your glory down,
And whelm in ruins yon flagitious town.
O thou, great Father! Lord of earth and skies!
Above the thought of man, supremely wise!
If from thy hand the fates of mortals flow,
From whence this favour to an impious foe,
A godless crew, abandon'd and unjust,
Still breathing rapine, violence, and lust?
The best of things beyond their measure cloy,
Sleep's balmy blessing, love's endearing joy;
The feast, the dance; whate'er mankind desire,
E'en the sweet charms of sacred numbers tire.
But Troy for ever reaps a dire delight
In thirst of slaughter, and in lust of fight.
Paris from far the moving sight beheld, With pity soften'd, and with fury swell'd; His honour'd host, a youth of matchless grace, And loved of all the Paphlagonian race! With his full strength he bent his angry bow, And wing'd the feather'd vengeance at the foe. A chief there was, the brave Euchenor named, For riches much, and more for virtue famed, Who held his seat in Corinth's stately town; Polydus' son, a seer of old renown. Oft had the father told his early doom, By arms abroad, or slow disease at home: He climb'd his vessel, prodigal of breath, And chose the certain, glorious path to death. Beneath his ear the pointed arrow went; The soul came issuing at the narrow vent: His limbs, unnerved, drop useless on the ground, And everlasting darkness shades him round.
Nor knew great Hector how his legions yield (Wrapp'd in the cloud and tumult of the field); Wide on the left the force of Greece commands, And conquest hovers o'er the Achaian bands: With such a tide superior virtue sway'd,
And he that shakes the solid earth, gave aid. But in the centre Hector fix'd remain'd,
760 Where first the gates were forced, and bulwarks gain'd· There, on the margin of the hoary deep, (Their naval station where the Ajaces keep, And where low walls confine the beating tides, Whose humble barrier scarce the foes divides; 765 Where late in fight, both foot and horse engaged, And all the thunder of the battle raged) There, join'd, the whole Boeotian strength remains, The proud Ionians with their sweeping trains, Locrians and Phthians, and the Epean force; 770 But, join'd, repel not Hector's fiery course.
The flower of Athens, Stichius, Phidas led, Bias and great Menestheus at their head. Meges the strong the Epeian bands controll'd, And Dracius prudent, and Amphion bold:
775 The Phthians Medon, famed for martial might,
And brave Podarces, active in the fight.
This drew from Phylachus his noble line;
Iphiclus' son: and that (Oïleus) thine:
(Young Ajax' brother, by a stolen embrace;
He dwelt far distant from his native place,
By his fierce stepdame from his father's reign
Expell'd and exiled for her brother slain.)
These rule the Phthians, and their arms employ
Mix'd with Boeotians, on the shores of Troy.
Now side by side, with like unwearied care,
Each Ajax labour'd through the field of war:
So when two lordly bulls, with equal toil,
Force the bright ploughshare through the fallow soil, 880
Join'd to one yoke, the stubborn earth they tear,
790 And trace large furrows with the shining share; O'er their huge limbs the foam descends in snow, And streams of sweat down their sour foreheads flow. A train of heroes follow'd through the field, Who bore by turns great Ajax' seven-fold shield; 795 Whene'er he breath'd, remissive of his might,
Thus said, he seized (while yet the carcass heaved)
The bloody armour, which his train received:
Then sudden mix'd among the warring crew,
And the bold son of Pylæmenes slew.
Harpalion had through Asia travell'd far,
Following his martial father to the war:
Through filial love he left his native shore,
Never, ah never, to behold it more!
His unsuccessful spear he chanced to fling
Against the target of the Spartan king;
Thus of his lance disarm'd, from death he flies,
And turns around his apprehensive eyes.
Him, through the hip transpiercing as he fled,
The shaft of Merion mingled with the dead.
Beneath the bone the glancing point descends,
And, driving down, the swelling bladder rends:
Sunk in his sad companions' arms he lay,
And in short pantings sobb'd his soul away
(Like some vile worm extended on the ground);
While life's red torrent gush'd from out the wound.
Him on his car the Paphlagonian train
In slow procession bore from off the plain.
The pensive father, father now no more!
Attends the mournful pomp along the shore;
And unavailing tears profusely shed;
And, unrevenged, deplored his offspring dead.
Tired with the incessant slaughters of the fight.
No following troops his brave associate grace:
In close engagement an unpractised race,
The Locrian squadrons nor the javelin wield,
Nor bear the helm, nor lift the moony shield;
But skill'd from far the flying shaft to wing,
Or whirl the sounding pebble from the sling.
Dextrous with these they aim a certain wound,
Or fell the distant warrior to the ground.
Though great in all, thou seem'st averse to lend Impartial audience to a faithful friend; To gods and men thy matchless worth is known, And every art of glorious war thy own; But in cool thought and counsel to excel,
820 How widely differs this from warring well?
Content with what the bounteous gods have given
Seek not alone to engross the gifts of heaven.
To some the powers of bloody war belong,
To some, sweet music, and the charm of song;
* Neptune.
To few, and wondrous few, has Jove assign'd
A wise, extensive, all-considering mind;
Their guardians these, the nations round confess,
And towns and empires for their safety bless.
If heaven have lodged this virtue in my breast,
Attend, O Hector, what I judge the best.
See, as thou movest, on dangers dangers spread,
And war's whole fury burns around thy head.
Behold! distress'd within yon hostile wall,
How many Trojans yield, disperse, or fall!
What troops, out-number'd scarce the war maintain!
And what brave heroes at the ships lie slain!
Here cease thy fury; and the chiefs and kings
Convoked to council, weigh the sum of things.
Whether (the gods succeeding our desires)
To yon tall ships to bear the Trojan fires;
Or quit the fleet, and pass unhurt away,
Contented with the conquest of the day.
I fear, I fear, lest Greece, not yet undone,
Pay the large debt of last revolving sun;
Achilles, great Achilles, yet remains
On yonder decks, and yet o'erlooks the plains!
The counsel pleased; and Hector, with a bound, Leap'd from his chariot on the trembling ground; Swift as he leap'd, his clanging arms resound. To guard this post (he cried) thy art employ, And here detain the scatter'd youth of Troy: Where yonder heroes faint, I bend my way, And hasten back to end the doubtful day.
This said; the towering chief prepares to go,
Shakes his white plumes that to the breezes flow,
And seems a moving mountain topp'd with snow.
Through all his host, inspiring force, he flies,
And bids anew the martial thunder rise.
To Panthus' son, at Hector's high command,
Haste the bold leaders of the Trojan band:
But round the battlements, and round the plain
For many a chief he look'd, but look'd in vain ;
Deïphobus, nor Helenus the seer,
Nor Asins' son, nor Asins' self appear.
For these were pierced with many a ghastly wound,
Some cold in death, some groaning on the ground:
Some low in dust (a mournful object) lay;
High on the wall some breathed their souls awav.
Far on the left, amid the throng he found
(Cheering his troops, and dealing deaths around)
The graceful Paris; whom, with fury moved,
Opprobrious, thus, the impatient chief reproved:
Ill-fated Paris! slave to woman-kind,
As smooth of face as fraudulent of mind!
Where is Deïphobus, where Asius gone?
The godlike father, and the intrepid son?
The force of Helenus, dispensing fate?
And great Othryoneus, so fear'd of late?
Black fate hangs o'er thee from the avenging gods,
Imperial Troy from her foundations nods;
Whelm'd in thy country's ruins shalt thou fall,
And one devouring vengeance swallow all.
Far o'er the plains in dreadful order bright,
The brazen arms reflect a beamy light:
Full in the blazing van great Hector shined,
920 Like Mars commision'd to confound mankind.
Before him flaming, his enormous shield,
Like the broad sun, illumined all the field:
His nodding helm emits a streamy ray;
His piercing eyes through all the battle stray;
And, while beneath his targe he flash'd along.
Shot terrors round, that wither'd e'en the strong.
Thus stalk'd he, dreadful; death was in his look;
Whole nations fear'd: but not an Argive shook.
The towering Ajax, with an ample stride,
930 Advanced the first, and thus the chief defied :
Hector! come on, thy empty threats forbear;
'Tis not thy arm, 'tis thundering Jove we fear:
The skill of war to us not idly given,
Lo Greece is humbled, not by Troy, but Heaven. 1025
935 Vain are the hopes that haughty mind imparts,
To force our fleet: the Greeks have hands and hearts. Long ere in flames our lofty navy fall,
Your boasted city and your god-built wall
Shall sink beneath us, smoking on the ground;
And spread a long, unmeasured ruin round.
The time shall come, when, chased along the plain,
E'en thou shalt call on Jove and call in vain:
E'en thou shalt wish to aid thy desperate course,
The wings of falcons for thy flying horse;
945 Shalt run, forgetful of a warrior's fame,
While clouds of friendly dust conceal thy sname.
As thus he spoke, behold in open view,
On sounding wings a dexter eagle flew.
To Jove's glad omen all the Grecians rise,
950 And hail, with shouts, his progress through the skies:
Far-echoing clamours bound from side to side;
They ceased; and thus the chief of Troy replied:
From whence this menace, this insulting strain?
Enormous boaster! doom'd to vaunt in vain.
So may the gods on Hector life bestow
(Not that short life which mortals lead below,
But such as those of Jove's high lineage born,
The blue-eyed maid, or he that gilds the morn),
As this decisive day shall end the fame
Of Greece, and Argos be no more a name.
And thou, imperious! if thy madness wait
The lance of Hector, thou shalt meet thy fate
That giant corpse, extended on the shore,
Shall largely feed the fowls with fat and gore
He said, and like a lion stalk'd along:
With shouts incessant earth and ocean rung
Sent from his following hosts: the Grecian train
With answering thunders fill'd the echoing plain;
A shout that tore heaven's concave, and above
Shook the fix'd splendours of the throne of Jove.
When Paris thus: My brother and my friend, Thy warm impatience makes thy tongue offend. In other battles I deserved thy blame, Though then not deedless, nor unknown to fame : But since yon rampart by thy arms lay low, I scatter'd slaughter from my fatal bow. The chiefs you seek on yonder shore lie slain : Of all these heroes two alone remain; Deïphobus, and Helenus the seer: Each now disabled by a hostile spear. Go then, successful, where thy soul inspires: This heart and hand shall second all thy fires: What with this arm I can, prepare to know, Till death for death be paid, and blow for blow. But, 'tis not ours, with forces not our own To combat; strength is of the gods alone. These words the hero's angry mind assuage: Then fierce they mingle where the thickest rage. Around Polydamas, distain'd with blood,
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Juno deceives Jupiter by the girdle of Venus. Nestor sitting at the table with Machaon, is alarmed with the increasing clamour of the war, and hastens to Agamemnon: on his way he meets that prince with Diomed and Ulysses, whom he informs of the extremity of the danger. Agamemnon proposes to make their escape by night, which Ulysses withstands: to which Diomed adds his advice, that, wounded as they were, they should go forth and encourage the army with their presence; which advice is pursued. Juno, seeing the partiality of Jupiter to the Trojans, forms a design to over reach him: she sets off her charms with the utmost care, and (the more surely to enchant him) obtains the magic girdle of Venus. She then applies herself to the god of sleep, and, with some difficulty, persuades him to seal the eyes of Jupiter; this done, she goes to mount Ida, where the god, at first sight, is ravished with her beauty, sinks in her embraces, and is laid asleep. Neptune takes advantage of his slumber, and succours the Greeks: Hector is struck to the ground with a prodigious stone by Ajax, and carried of from the battle: several actions succeed; till the Trojans, much distressed, are obliged to give way: the lesser Ajax signalizes himself in a particular
BUT nor the genial feast, nor flowing bowl,
Could charm the cares of Nestor's watchful soul;
His startled ears the increasing cries attend:
Then thus, impatient to his wounded friend:
What new alarm, divine Machaon, say,
What mix'd events attend this mighty day!
Hark how the shouts divide, and how they meet,
And now come full, and thicken to the fleet!
Here, with the cordial draught, dispel thy care,
Let Hecamede the strengthening bath prepare,
Refresh thy wound, and cleanse the clotted gore;
While I the adventures of the day explore.
He said and seizing Thrasymedes' shield
(His valiant offspring) hasten'd to the field
(That day the son his father's buckler bore);
Then snatch'd a lance, and issued from the door.
Soon as the prospect open'd to his view,
His wounded eyes the scene of sorrow knew;
Dire disarray! the tumult of the fight,
The wall in ruins, and the Greeks in flight.
As when old Ocean's silent surface sleeps,
The waves just heaving on the purple deeps:
While yet the expected tempest hangs on high,
Weighs down the cloud, and blackens in the sky,
The mass of waters will no wind obey;
Jove sends one gust, and bids them roll away.
While wavering counsels thus his mind engage,
Fluctuates in doubtful thought the Pylian sage,
To join the host, or to the general haste;
Debating long, he fixes on the last:
Yet, as he moves, the fight his bosom warms;
The field rings dreadful with the clang of arms;
The gleaming falchions flash, the javelins fly,
Blows echo blows, and all or kill or die.
Him, in his march, the wounded princes meet,
By tardy steps ascending from the fleet;
The king of men, Ulysses the divine,
And who to Tydeus owes his noble line.
(Their ships at distance from the battle stand,
In lines advanced along the shelving strand:
Whose bay, the fleet unable to contain
At length; beside the margin of the main,
Rank above rank, the crowded ships they moor:
Who landed first, lay highest on the shore).
Supported on their spears, they took their way,
Unfit to fight, but anxions for the day.
Nestor's approach alarm'd each Grecian breast,
Whom thus the general of the host address'd:
O grace and glory of the Achaian name!
What drives thee, Nestor, from the field of fame?
Shall then proud Hector see his boast fulfill'd,
Our fleets in ashes, and our heroes kill'd?
Such was his threat, ah now too soon made good,
On many a Grecian bosom writ in blood.
Is every heart inflamed with equal rage
Against your king, nor will one chief engage?
And have I lived to see with mournful eyes
In every Greek a new Achilles rise?
Gerenian Nestor then: So Fate has will'd;
And all-confirming time has fate fulfill'd.
Not he that thunders from the aërial bower,
Not Jove himself, upon the past has power.
The wall, our late inviolable bound,
And best defence, lies smoking on the ground:
E'en to the ships their conquering arms extend,
And groans of slaughter'd Greeks to heaven ascend.
On speedy measures then employ your thought,
In such distress. If counsel profit aught;
Arms cannot much: though Mars our souls incite;
These gaping wounds withhold us from the fight.
To him the monarch: That our army bends,
That Troy triumphant our high fleet ascends,
And that the rampart, late our surest trust
And best defence, lies smoking in the dust:
All this from Jove's afflictive hand we bear,
Who, far from Argos, wills our ruin here.
Past are the days when happier Greece was bless d,
And all his favour, all his aid confess'd;
Now heaven averse, our hands from battle ties,
And lifts the Trojan glory to the skies.
Cease we at length to waste our blood in vain,
And launch what ships lie nearest to the main ;
Leave these at anchor till the coming night:
Then, if impetuous Troy forbear the fight,
Bring all to sea, and hoist each sail for flight.
Better from evils, well foreseen, to run,
Than perish in the danger we may shun.
Thus he. The sage Ulysses thus replies,
While anger flash'd from his disdainful eyes:
What shameful words (unkingly as thou art)
Fall from that trembling tongue and timorous heart!
Oh were thy sway the curse of meaner powers,
And thou the shame of any host but ours!
A host, by Jove endued with martial might,
And taught to conquer, or to fall in fight:
5 Adventurous combats and bold wars to wage,
Employ'd our youth, and yet employs our age.
And wilt thou thus desert the Trojan plain?
And have whole streams of blood been spilt in vain?
In such base sentence if thou couch thy fear,
10 Speak it in whispers, lest a Greek should hear.
Lives there a man so dead to fame, who dares
To think such meanness, or the thought declares?
And comes it e'en from him whose sovereign sway
The banded legions of all Greece obey?
15 Is this a general's voice, that calls to flight,
While war hangs doubtful, while his soldiers fight?
What more could Troy? What yet their fate denies
Thou givest the foe; all Greece becomes their prize.
No more the troops (our hoisted sails in view,
20 Themselves abandon'd) shall the fight pursue;
But thy ships flying, with despair shall see;
And owe destruction to a prince like thee.
Thy just reproofs (Atrides calm replies)
Like arrows pierce me, for thy words are wise.
25 Unwilling as I am to lose the host,
I force not Greece to leave this hateful coast.
Glad I submit, whoe'er, or young, or old,
Aught, more conducive to our wcal, unfold.
Tydides cut him short, and thus began:
30 Such counsel if you seek, behold the man
Who boldly gives it; and what he shall say,
Young though he be, disdain not to obey:
A youth, who from the mighty Tydeus springs,
May speak to counsels and assembled kings.
35 Hear then in me the great Enides' son,
Whose honour'd dust (his race of glory run)
Lies whelm'd in ruins of the Theban wall;
Brave in his life, and glorious in his fall;
With three bold sons was generous Prothous bless'd, 130
40 Who Pleuron's walls and Calydon possess'd;
Melas and Agrius, but (who far surpass'd
The rest in courage) Eneus was the last.
From him, my sire. From Calydon expell'd,
He pass'd to Argos, and in exile dwell'd;
45 The monarch's daughter there (so Jove ordain'd)
He won, and flourish'd where Adrastus reign'd;
There, rich in fortune's gifts, his acres till'd,
Beheld his vines their liquid harvest yield,
And numerous flocks that whiten'd all the field.
50 Such Tydeus was, the foremost once in fame!
Nor lives in Greece a stranger to his name.
Then, what for common good my thoughts inspire,
Attend, and in the son respect the sire.
Though sore of battle, though with wounds oppress'd, 145
55 Let each go forth, and animate the rest,
Advance the glory which he cannot share,
Though not partaker, witness of the war.
But lest new wounds on wounds o'erpower us quite,
Beyond the missile javelin's sounding flight,
60 Safe let us stand; and from the tumult far,
Inspire the ranks, and rule the distant war.
He added not the listening kings obey,
Slow moving on; Atrides leads the way.
The god of ocean (to inflame their rage)
Appears a warrior furrow'd o'er with age;
Press'd in his own, the general's hand he took,
And thus the venerable hero spoke :
Atrides, lo! with what disdainful eye
Achilles sees his country's forces fly;
Blind impious man! whose anger is his guide,
Who glories in unutterable pride.
So may he perish, so may Jove disclaim
The wretch relentless, and o'erwhelm with shame!
But heaven forsakes not thee; o'er yonder sands
Soon shalt thou view the scatter'd Trojan bands
Fly diverse; while proud kings, and chiefs renown'd,
Driven heaps on heaps, with clouds involved around
Of rolling dust, their winged wheels employ
To hide their ignominious heads in Troy.
With joy the glorious conflict she survey'd,
Where her great brother gave the Grecians aid.
But placed aloft, on Ida's shady height
She sees her Jove, and trembles at the sight,
Jove to deceive, what methods shall she try,
What arts, to blind his all-beholding eye?
At length she trusts her power; resolved to prove
The old, yet still successful, cheat of love;
Against his wisdom to oppose her charms,
And lull the Lord of Thunders in her arms.
A splendid footstool, and a throne, that shine
With gold unfading, Somnus, shall be thine,
The work of Vulcan; to indulge thy ease,
When wine and feasts thy golden humours please. 275
Imperial dame (the balmy power replies)
Great Saturn's heir, and empress of the skies!
O'er other gods I spread my easy chain;
The sire of all, old Ocean, owus my reign,
190 And his hush'd waves lie silent on the main.
But how, unbidden, shall I dare to steep
Jove's awful temples in the dew of sleep?
Long since too venturous, at thy bold command,
On those eternal lids I laid my hand;
What time, deserting Ilion's wasted plain,
Swift to her bright apartment she repairs,
Sacred to dress and beauty's pleasing cares:
With skill divine had Vulcan form'd the bower,
Safe from access of each intruding power.
Touch'd with her secret key, the doors unfold:
Self-closed, behind her shut the valves of gold.
Here first she bathes; and round her body pours
Soft oils of fragrance, and ambrosial showers:
The winds, perfumed, the balmy gale convey
Through heaven, through earth, and all the aerial way:
Spirit divine! whose exhalation greets
The sense of gods with more than mortal sweets.
Thus while she breathed of heaven, with decent pride
Her artful hands the radiant tresses tied ;
Part on her head in shining ringlets roll'd,
Part o'er her shoulders waved like melted gold.
Around her next a heavenly mantle flow'd,
That rich with Pallas' labour'd colours glow'd:
Large clasps of gold the foldings gather'd round
A golden zone her swelling bosom bound.
Far-beaming pendants tremble in her ear,
Each gem illumined with a triple star.
Then o'er her head she casts a veil more white
Than new-fallen snow, and dazzling as the light.
Last her fair feet celestial sandals grace.
Thus issuing radiant, with majestic pace,
Forth from the doom the imperial goddess moves,
And calls the mother of the Smiles and Loves.
How long (to Venus thus apart she cried)
Shall human strife celestial minds divide?
Ah yet will Venus aid Saturnia's joy,
And set aside the cause of Greece and Troy?
Let heaven's dread empress (Cytherea said)
Speak her request, and deem her will obey'd.
95 His conquering son, Alcides, plough'd the main.
When lo! the deeps arise, the tempests roar,
And drive the Hero to the Coan shore:
Great Jove awaking, shook the bless'd abodes
With rising wrath, and tumbled gods on gods:
Me chief he sought, and from the realms on high
Had hurl'd indignant to the nether sky,
But gentle Night, to whom I fled for aid
(The friend of earth and heaven) her wings display'd:
Empower'd the wrath of gods and men to tame,
E'en Jove revered the venerable dame
Vain are thy fears (the queen of heaven replies,
And speaking rolls her large majestic eyes):
Think'st thou that Troy has Jove's high favour won,
Like great Alcides, his all-conquering son?
210 Hear, and obey the mistress of the skies,
Nor for the deed expect a vulgar prize;
For know, thy loved one shall be ever thine,
The youngest Grace, Pasithaë the divine.
Swear then (he said) by those tremendous floods 305
215 That roar through hell, and bind the invoking gods:
Let the great parent earth one hand sustain,
And stretch the other o'er the sacred main :
Call the black Titans, that with Chronos dwell,
To hear and witness from the depths of hell;
220 That she, my loved-one, shall be ever mine,
The youngest Grace, Pasithaë the divine.
The queen assents, and from the infernal bowers
Invokes the sable subtartarean powers,
And those who rule the inviolable floods,
Whom mortals name the dread Titanian gods.
Then swift as wind, o'er Lemnos' smoky isle,
They wing their way, and Imbrus' sea-beat soil,
Through air unseen, involved in darkness glide,
And light on Lectos, on the point of Ide
(Mother of savages, whose echoing hills
Are heard resounding with a hundred rills):
Fair Ida trembles underneath the god;
Hush'd are her mountains, and her forests nod.
There on a fir, whose spiry branches rise
To join its summit to the neighbouring skies;
Then grant me (said the queen) those conquering
charms,
That power, which mortals and immortals warms,
That love, which melts mankind in fierce desires,
And burns the sons of heaven with sacred fires!
For lo! I haste to those remote abodes,
Where the great parents (sacred source of gods!)
Ocean and Tethys their old empire keep,
On the last limits of the land and deep.
In their kind arms my tender years were past;
What time old Saturn from Olympus cast,
Of upper heaven to Jove resign'd the reign,
Whelm'd under the huge mass of earth and main.
For strife, I hear, has made the union cease,
Which held so long that ancient pair in peace.
What honour, and what love shall I obtain,
If I compose those fatal feuds again;
Once more their minds in mutual ties engage,
And what my youth has owed, repay their age!
She said. With awe divine the queen of love
Obey'd the sister and the wife of Jove;
And from her fragrant breast the zone unbraced,
With various skill and high embroidery graced.
In this was every art, and every charm,
To win the wisest, and the coldest warm:
Fond love, the gentle vow, the gay desire,
The kind deceit, the still reviving fire,
Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs,
Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes.
This on her hand the Cyprian goddess laid;
Take this, and with it all thy wish, she said.
With smiles she took the charm; and smiling press'd
The powerful cestus to her snowy breast.
Then Venus to the courts of Jove withdrew;
Whilst from Olympus pleased Saturnia flew.
O'er high Pieria thence her course she bore,
O'er fair Emathia's ever-pleasing shore,
O'er Hæmus' hills with snows eternal crown'd;
Nor once her flying foot approach'd the ground.
Then taking wing from Athos' lofty steep,
She speeds to Lemnos o'er the rolling deep,
And seeks the cave of Death's half brother, Sleep.
Sweet pleasing Sleep! (Saturnia thus began)
Who spread'st thy empire o'er each god and man;
If e'er obsequious to thy Juno's will,
O power of slumbers! hear, and favour still.
Shed thy soft dews on Jove's immortal eyes,
While sunk in love's entrancing joys he lies.
235 Dark in embowering shade, conceal'd from sight,
Sat Sleep, in likeness of the bird of night.
(Chalcis his name by those of heavenly birth,
But call'd Cymindis by the race of earth.)
To Ida's top successful Juno flies;
240 Great Jove surveys her with desiring eyes:
The god, whose lightning sets the heavens on fire,
Through all his bosom feels the fierce desire ;
Fierce as when first by stealth he seized her charms, 335
Mix'd with her soul, and melted in her arms.
245 Fix'd on her eyes he fed his eager look,
Then press'd her hand, and thus with transport spoke:
Why comes my goddess from the ethereal sky,
And not her steeds and flaming chariot nigh?
Then she: I haste to those remote abodes
250 Where the great parents of the deathless gods,
The reverend Ocean and grey Tethys reign,
On the last limits of the land and main.
I visit these, to whose indulgent cares
I owe the nursing of my tender years.
255 For strife, I hear, has made that union cease,
Which held so long that ancient pair in peace.
The steeds, prepared my chariot to convey
O'er earth and seas, and through the aërial way
Wait under Ide of thy superior power
260 To ask consent, I leave the Olympian bower;
Nor seek, unknown to thee, the sacred cells
Deep under seas, where hoary Ocean dwells.
For that (said Jove) suffice another day;
But eager love denies the least delay.
265 Let softer cares the present hour employ,
And be these moments sacred all to joy.
Ne'er did my soul so strong a passion prove,
Or for an earthly or a heavenly love:
Not when I press'd Ixion's matchless dame,
270 Whence rose Perithous, like the gods in fame.
Not when fair Danae felt the shower of gold
Stream into life, whence Perseus brave and bold.
Not thus I burn'd for either Theban dame,
(Bacchus from this, from that Alcides came);
Nor Phoenix' daughter, beautiful and young,
Whence godlike Rhadamanth and Minos sprung.
Not thus I burn'd for fair Latona's face,
Nor comelier Ceres' more majestic grace.
Not thus e'en for thyself I felt desire,
As now my veins receive the pleasing fire.
He spoke; the goddess with the charming eyes
Glows with celestial red, and thus replies:
Is this a scene for love? on Ida's height
Exposed to mortal and immortal sight:
Our joys profaned by each familiar eye;
The sport of heaven, and fable of the sky.
How shall I e'er review the bless'd abodes,
Or mix among the senate of the gods?
Shall I not think, that, with disorder'd charms,
All heaven beholds me recent from thy arms?
With skill divine has Vulcan form'd thy bower,
Sacred to love and to the genial hour;
If such thy will, to that recess retire,
And secret there indulge thy soft desire.
Around the ships: seas hanging o'er the shores, Both armies join: earth thunders, ocean roars. 365 Not half so loud the bellowing deeps resound, When stormy winds disclose the dark profound; Less loud the winds, that from the Eolian hall Roar through the woods, and make whole forests fall; 460 Less loud the woods, when flames in torrents pour, 370 Catch the dry mountain, and its shades devour: With such a rage the meeting hosts are driven, And such a clamour shakes the sounding heaven. The first bold javelin urged by Hector's force, Direct at Ajax' bosom wing'd its course; But there no pass the crossing belts afford, (One braced his shield, and one sustain'd his sword.)
She ceased; and smiling with superior love,
Thus answer'd mild the cloud-compelling Jove:
Nor god nor mortal shall our joys behold,
Shaded with clouds, and circumfused in gold;
Not e'en the sun, who darts through heaven his rays,
And whose broad eye the extended earth surveys.
Gazing he spoke, and kindling at the view,
His eager arms around the goddess threw.
Glad earth perceives, and from her bosom pours
Unbidden herbs and voluntary flowers:
Thick new-born violets a soft carpet spread,
And clustering lotos swell the rising bed,
And sudden hyacinths the turf bestow,
And flamy crocus made the mountain glow.
There golden clouds conceal'd the heavenly pair, Steep'd in soft joys, and circumfused with air; Celestial dews, descending o'er the ground,
Perfume the mount, and breathe ambrosia round.
(Where heaps laid loose beneath the warrior's feet, Or served to ballast, or to prop the fleet,)
Toss'd round and round, the missive marble flings; 475
On the razed shield the falling ruin rings,
385 Full on his breast and throat with force descends;
Nor deaden'd there its giddy fury spends,
But whirling on, with many a fiery round,
Smokes in the dust, and ploughs into the ground.
As when the bolt, red hissing from above,
Darts on the consecrated plant of Jove,
The mountain-oak in flaming ruin lies,
Black from the blow, and smokes of sulphur rise,
Stiff with amaze the pale beholders stand,
And own the terrors of the almighty hand!
395 So lies great Hector prostrate on the shore;
His slacken'd hand deserts the lance it bore;
His following shield the fallen chief o'erspread;
Beneath his helmet dropp'd his fainting head;
His load of armour sinking to the ground,
Clanks on the field; a dead and hollow sound.
Loud shouts of triumph fill the crowded plain;
Greece sees, in hope, Troy's great defender slain:
All spring to seize him; storms of arrows fly;
And thicker javelins intercept the sky.
At length, with love and sleep's soft power oppress'd, 405 In vain an iron tempest hisses round;
The panting Thunderer nods, and sinks to rest.
Now to the navy borne on silent wings,
To Neptune's ear soft Sleep this message brings;
Beside him sudden, unperceived, he stood,
And thus with gentle words address'd the god :
Now, Neptune! now the important hour employ,
To check a while the haughty hopes of Troy:
While Jove yet rests, while yet my vapours shed
The golden vision round his sacred head;
For Juno's love, and Somnus' pleasing ties,
Have closed those awful and eternal eyes.
Thus having said, the power of slumber flew,
On human lids to drop the balmy dew.
Neptune, with zeal increased, renews his care,
And towering in the foremost ranks of war,
Indignant thus-Oh once of martial fame!
O Greeks! if yet ye can deserve the name!
This half-recover'd day, shall Troy obtain?
Shall Hector thunder at your ships again?
Lo, still he vaunts, and threats the fleet with fires,
While stern Achilles in his wrath retires.
One hero's loss too tamely you deplore,
Be still yourselves, and ye shall need no more.
Oh yet, if glory any bosom warms,
Brace on your firmest helms, and stand to arms:
His strongest spear each valiant Grecian wield,
Each valiant Grecian seize his broadest shield;
Let to the weak the lighter arms belong,
The ponderous targe be wielded by the strong.
Thus arm'd, not Hector shall our presence stay:
Myself ye Greeks! myself will lead the way.
He lies protected, and without a wound. Polydamas, Agenor the divine,
The pious warrior of Anchises' line, And each bold leader of the Lycian band, With covering shields (a friendly circle) stand. His mournful followers, with assistant care, The groaning hero to his chariot bear; His foaming coursers, swifter than the wind, Speed to the town, and leave the war behind. When now they touch'd the mead's enamell'd side, Where gentle Xanthus rolls his easy tide, With watery drops the chief they sprinkle round, Placed on the margin of the flowery ground. Raised on his knees he now ejects the gore; 420 Now faints anew, low-sinking on the shore; By fits he breathes, half views the fleeting skies, And seals again, by fits, his swimming eyes. Soon as the Greeks the chief's retreat beheld, With double fury each invades the field.
The troops assent; their martial arms they change,
The busy chiefs their banded legions range.
The kings, though wounded, and oppress'd with pain,
With helpful hands themselves assist the train,
The strong and cumbrous arms the valiant wield,
The weaker warrior takes a lighter shield.
Thus sheath'd in shining brass, in bright array
The legions march, and Neptune leads the way:
His brandish'd falchion flames before their eyes,
Like lightning flashing through the frighted skies.
Clad in his might, the earth-shaking power appears;
Pale mortals tremble, and confess their fears.
Troy's great defender stands alone unawed,
Arms his proud host, and dares oppose a god:
And lo! the god and wondrous man appear:
The sea's stern ruler there, and Hector here.
The roaring main, at her great master's call,
Rose in huge ranks, and form'd a watry wall
An arduous battle rose around the dead; By turns the Greeks, by turns the Trojans bled. Fired with revenge, Polydamas drew near, And at Prothonor shook the trembling spear: The driving javelin through his shoulder thrust, He sinks to earth, and grasps the bloody dust. Lo thus (the victor cries) we rule the field, And thus their arms the race of Panthus wield: From this unerring hand there flies no dart But bathes its point within a Grecian heart. Prompt on that spear to which thou owest thy fall, Go, guide thy darksome steps to Pluto's dreary hall! He said, and sorrow touch'd each Argive breast; 535 The soul of Ajax burn'd above the rest. As by his side the groaning warrior fell, At the fierce foe he launch'd his piercing steel: The foe reclining, shunn'd the flying death; But Fate, Archelochus, demands thy breath: Thy lofty birth no succour could impart, 450 The wings of death o'ertook thee on the dart. Swift to perform heaven's fatal will it fled, Full on the juncture of the neck and head, And took the joint, and cut the nerves in twain: The dropping head first tumbled to the plain.
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