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Shall rouze thy flaves, and her loft lord deplore,
The brave, the great, the glorious, now no more!
This faid, the wip'd from Venus' wounded palm
The facred ichor, and infus'd the balm.
Juno and Pallas with a mile furvey'd,
And thus to Jove began the blue ey'd Maid;
Permit thy daughter, gracious Jove! to tell
How this mifchance the Cyprian Queen befell.
As late the try'd with pallion to inflame.
The tender bofom of a Grecian dame,
Allur'd the fair with moving thoughts of joy,
To quit her country for fome youth of Troy;
The ciafping zone, with golden buckles bound,
Raz'd her foft hand with this lamented wound.
The Sire of Gods and men fuperior fmil'd,
And, calling Venus, thus, addreft his child :
Not thefe, O daughter, are thy proper cares!
Thee milder arts beft, and fofter wars;

Sweet fmiles are thine, and kind endearing charms,
To Mars and Pallas leave the deeds of arms.
Thus they in heaven: while on the plain below
The fierce Tydides charg'd his Dardan foe,
Flush'd with celestial blood purfu'd his way,
And fearless dar'd the threatening God of day;"
Already in his hopes he faw him kill'd,
Though fcreen'd behind Apollo's mighty fhield..
Thrice rushing furious, at the chief he ftrook;
His blazing buckler thrice Apollo fhook: [cloud,
He try'd the fourth: when, breaking from the
A more than mortal voice was heard aloud:

O fon of Tydeus, cease! be wife and fee.
How vaft the difference of the Gods and thee;
Distance immenfe! between the powers that shine
Above, eternal, deathlefs, and divine,
And mortal man! a wretch of humble birth,
A fhortliv'd reptile in the duft of earth.

So fpoke the God who darts celestial fires; He dreads his fury, and some steps retires. Then Phoebus bore the chief of Venus' race. To Troy's high fane, and to his holy place; Latona there and Phoebe heal'd the wound, With vigour arm'd him, and with glory crown'd. This done, the patron of the filver bow A phantom rais'd, the fame in shape and show With great Æneas; fuch the form he bore, And fuch in fight the radiant arms he wore. Around the fpectre bloody wars are wag'd, And Greece and Troy with clafhing thields engag'd. Mean time on Ilion's tower Apollo ftood, And, calling Mars, thus urg'd the raging God. Stern power of arms, by whom the mighty fall; Who bath'ft in blood, and shak'ft th' embattled Rife in thy wrath! to hell's abhorr'd abodes (wall, Dispatch yon Greek, and vindicate the Gods. First rofy Venus felt his brutal rage;

The next he charg'd, and dares all heaven engage: The wretch would brave high heaven's immortal Sire,

His triple thunder, and his bolts of fire.

The God of battle iffues on the plain,
Stirs all the ranks, and fires the Trojan train;
In form like Acamas, the Thracian guide,
Enrag'd to Troy's retiring chiefs he cry'd :
How long, ye fons of Priam! will ye fly,
And unreveng'd fee Priam's people die ?
Still unrefifted fhall the foe defroy,

And stretch the laughter to the gates of Troy?

Lo brave Æneas finks beneath his wound,
Not godlike Hector more in arms renoun'd;
Haste all, and take the generous warrior's part,
He faid; new courage fwell'd each hero's heart.
Sarpedon first his ardent foul exprefs'd,
And, turn'd to Hector, these bold words exprefs'd:

Say, chief, is all thy ancient valour loft? [boast,
Where are thy threats, and where thy glorious
That propt alone by Priam's race should stand
Troy's facred walls, nor need a foreign hand?
Now, now thy country calls her wanted friends,
And the proud vaunt in just derifion ends,
Remote they stand, while alien troops engage,
Like trembling hounds before the lion's rage.
Far diftant hence I held my wide command,
Where foaming Xanthus laves the Lycian land,
With ample wealth (the wish of mortals) blet,
A beauteous wife, and infant at her breast;
With thofe I left whatever dear could be;
Greece, if the conquers, nothing wins from me;
Yet firft in fight my Lycian bands I cheer,
And long to meet this mighty man ye fear;
While Hector idie Aands, nor bids the brave
Their wives, their infants, and their altars fave.
Hafte, warrior, hafte! preferve thy threaten'd
Or one vaft burst of all-involving fate [state;
Full o'er your towers fhall fall, and fweep away
Sons, fires, and wives, an undiftinguifh'd prey.
Route all thy Trojans, urge thy aids to fight:
Thefe claim thy thoughts by day, thy watch by

night:

With force inceffant the brave Greeks oppose; Such cares thy friends deferve, and fuch thy foes.

Stung to the heart the generous Hector hears, But just reproof with decent filence bears, From his proud car the prince impetuous springs, On earth he leaps; his brazen armour rings, Two fhining spears are brandifh'd in his hands; Thus arm'd, he animates his drooping bands, Revives their ardour, turns their steps from flight, And wakes anew the dying flames of fight. They turn, they stand, the Greeks their fury dare, Condense their powers, and wait the growing war. As when, on Ceres' facred floor the fwain Spreads the wide fan to clear the golden grain And the light chaff, before the breezes borne, Afcends in clouds from off the heapy corn; The gray duft, rifing with collected winds, Drives o'er the barn, and whitens all the hinds: So white with duft the Grecian hoft appears, From trampling feeds, and thundering charioteers; The duiky clouds from labour'd earth arife, And roll in imoking volumes to the skies. Mars hovers o'er them with his fable field, And adds new honours to the darken'd field: Pleas'd with his charge, and ardent to fulfil, In Troy's defence, Apollo's heavenly will: Soon as from fight the blue-ey'd Maid retires, Each Trojan bofom with new warmth he fires. And now the God, from forth his facred fane, Produc'd Æneas to the fhouting train; Alive, unharm'd, with all his peers around, Erect he stood, and vigorous from his wound: Inquiries none they made; the dreadful day No paufe of words admits, no dull delay; Fierce difcord ftornis, Apollo loud exclaims, Fame calls, Mars thunders, and the field's in flames.

Diamed with either Ajax ftood, Art Ulydes, buh'd in hostile blood.

d clife, the labouring Grecian train. ed Bock of charging hosts fuftain. 'sed filent, the whole war they wait, my dreadful, and as fix'd as fate. with embattled clouds in dark array, ng the ties their gloomy lines difplay; the north his boisterous rage has spent, -pela Jeeps the liquid element:

ang vapours motionlets and still,
the limits of the fhaded hill;
the matters as the winds arife,

d and broken through the ruffled fkies. Ne was the general wanting to his train, top to trop he tolls through all the plain, Le men! the charge of battle bear; 1 metre fociates and yourselves revere ! Let me as more glorious acts inpire, A breaft to breast the noble fire! Or car's ie the odds of combat lie, The bore me gamous, or lamented die;

trembles in the field of fame, kirts dest, and worse than death, eternal ihame. The words be feconds with his flying lance, se point was ftrong Deicoon's chance, ', and in his native place

v'd like Priam's royal race:
lefaght the foremost in the field,
arch's lance tranfpierc'd his fhield:
reak the furious dart to ftay,

A belt the weapon forc'd its way:
Tyd dimifs'd his foul to hell,
Een him rattled as he fell,
There Eneas, branding is blade,
Orbs and Crethon laid,

Dicas, wealthy, brave, and great,
- her held his lofty feat:
Applenteous ftream: that yields
drets to the Pylian fields.

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Diocleus he, Add in the third degree, To eaten the martial toil, theby by their native soil, I nege Aries now untimely flain, on the Phrygian plain. vegantain lions, nurs'd with blood, pindad the gloomy wood, jaden the plains, and uncontroul'd At the fals, and wafte the fold; madhance from their native den, of the fall beneath the force of men.

earth their beauteous bodies lay, tin firs as tall and straight as they. Meses views with pitying eyes,

Thefe feen, the Dardan backward turn'd his course.
Brave as he was, and fhun'd unequal force,
The breathless bodies to the Greeks they drew,
Then mix'd in combat, and their toils renew.
First Pylæmenes, great in battle bled,

Who fheath'd in brafs the Paphlagonians led.
Atrides mark'd him where fublime he stood;
Fix'd in his throat, the javelin drank his blood.
The faithful Mydon, as he turn'd from fight
His flying courfer, funk to endless night:

A broken rock by Neftor's fon was thrown;
His bended arm receiv'd the falling stone.
From his numb'd hands the ivory-itudded reins,
Dropt in the duft, are trail'd along the plains:
Mean while his temples feel a deadly wound:
He groans in death, and ponderous finks to ground;
Deep drove his helmet in the fands, and there
The head food fix'd, the quivering legs in air,
Till trampled flat beneath the courfer's feet:
The youthful victor mounts his empty feat,
And bears the prize in triumph to the fleet.

Lagt lance, and at the victor flies; Matt him on; yet, ruthless in his hate, Je dancing, Neftor's valiant fon The burg'd him to provoke his fate. is danger, and neglects his own: dth the thought, fhould Helen's lord be

his country's glorious labours vain. yet the threatening heroes ftand; as teady tremble in their hand: Athus, his aid to bring,

quer by the Spartan king,

Great Hector faw, and raging at the view, Pours on the Greeks; the Trojan troops puriue: He fires his hoft with animating cries, And brings along the furies of the kies. Mars, ftern destroyer and Bellona dread, Flame in the front, and thunder at their head: This fwells the tumult and the rage of fight; That shakes a fpear that cafts a dreadful light, Where Hector march'd, the God of battles thin'd, Now ftorm'd before him, and now rag'd behind.

Tydides paus'd amidit his full career;
Then first the hero's manly breast knew fear.
As when fome umple fwain his cot forfakes,
And wide through fens an unknown journey takes
If chance a swelling brook his paffage stay,
And foam impervious cross the wanderer's way,
Confus'd he stops, a length of country past,
Eyes the rough waves, and, tir'd, returns at last.
Amaz'd no lefs the great Tydides ftands:
He ftay'd, and, turning, thus addrefs'd his bends
No wonder, Greeks! that all to Hector yield,
Secure of favouring gods, he takes the field:
His ftrokes they fecond, and avert our spears:
Behold where Mars in mortal arms appears!
Retire then, warriors, but fedate and flow;
Retire, but with your ices to the foe.
Truft nct too much your unavailing might;
'Tis not with Troy, but with the Gods ye fight.
Now near the Greeks the black battalions drew;
And first two leaders valiant Hector flew:
His force Anchialus and Mnefthes found.
In every art of glorious war renown'd;
In the fame car the chiefs to combat ride,
And fought united, and united died.
Struck at the fight the mighty Ajax glows
With thirst of vengeance, and affaults the foes.
His mafy fpear with matchlefs fury fent,
Through Amphius' belt and heavy belly went :
Amphius Apæls' happy foil poffets'd,
With herds abounding, and with treasure blefs'd;
But fate refiftlefs from his country led

The chief, to perith at his people's head.
Shook with his fall, his brazen armour rung,
And fierce, to feize it, conquering Ajax (prung;
Around his head an iron tempelt rain'd;
A wood of spears his ample thield fastain'ų;

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Beneath one foot the yet warm corpfe he preft,
And drew his javelin from the bleeding breast:
He could no more; the fhowering darts deny'd
To spoil his glittering arms and plumy pride.
Now foes on foes came pouring on the field,
With briftling lances, and compacted shields;
Till, in the fteely circle straiten'd round,
Fore'd he gives way, and fternly quits the ground.
While thus they ftrive, Tlepolemus the great,
Urg'd by the force of unrefifted fate,
Burns with defire Sarpedon's ftrength to prove ;
Alcides' offspring meets the fon of Jove.
Sheath'd in bright arms each adverse chief came on,
Jove's great deicendant, and his greater fon.
Prepar'd for combat ere the lance he tofs'd,
The daring Rhodian vents his haughty boast:
What brings this Lycian counsellor fo far,
To tremble at our arms, not mix in war?
Know thy vain felf; nor let their flattery move,
Who style thee fon of cloud-compelling Jove.
How far unlike thofe chiefs of race divine,
How vaft the difference of their deeds and thine!
Jove got fuch heroes as my fire, whofe foul
No fear could daunt, nor earth nor hell controul.
Troy felt his arm, and yon proud ramparts ftand
Rais'd on the ruins of his vengeful hand:
With fix small ships, and but a slender train,
He left the town a wide-deferted plain.
But what art thou? who deedlefs look'st around,
While unreveng'd thy Lycians bite the ground:
Small aid to Troy thy feeble force can be;
But, wert thou greater, thou must yield to me.
Pierc'd by my fpear, to endless darkness go!
1 make this present to the fhades below,

The fon of Hercules, the Rhodian guide,
Thus haughty spoke. The Lycian king reply'd:
Thy fire, O prince! o'erturn'd the Trojan state,
Whofe perjur'd monarch well deferv'd his fate;
Those heavenly fteeds the hero fought fo far,
Falfe he detain'd, the juft reward of war.
Nor fo content, the generous chief defy'd,
With bafe reproaches and unmanly pride.
But you, unworthy the high race you boast,
Shall raife my glory when thy own is loft;
Now meet thy fate, and, by Sarpedon flain,⚫
Add one more ghost to Pluto's gloomy reign.

He faid: both javelins at an inftant flew; Both ftruck, both wounded; but Sarpedon's flew : Full in the boaster's neck the weapon stood. Transfix'd his throat, and drank the vital blood; The foul difdainful feeks the caves of night, And his feal'd eyes for ever lofe the light.

Yet not in vain, Tlepolemus, was thrown
Thy angry lance; which, piercing to the bone
Sarpedon's thigh, had robb'd the chief of breath;
But Jove was prefent, and forbade the death.
Borne from the conflict by the Lycian throng,
The wounded hero dragg'd the lance along.
(His friends, each bufied in his feveral part,
Through hafte, or danger, had not drawn the
dart.)

The Greeks with flain Tlepolemus retir'd;
Whofe fall Ulyffes view'd, with fury fir'd;
Doubtful if Jove's great fon he should pursue,
Or pour his vengeance on the Lycian crew.
But Heaven and Fate the firft defign withstand,
Nor this great death muft grace Ulyffes' hand.

Minerva drives him on the Lycian train;
Alaftor, Cromius, Halius, ftrow'd the plain,
Alcander, Prytanis, Noëmon fell:

And numbers more his sword had fent to hell,
But Hector faw; and, furious at the fight,
Rush'd terrible amidst the ranks of fight.
With joy Sarpedon view'd the wish'd relief,
And, faint, lamenting, thus implor'd the chief:
Oh fuffer not the foe to bear away
My helpless corpfe, an unaffifted prey;
If I, unbleft, muft fee my fon no more,
My much-lov'd confort, and my native shore,
Yet let me die in Ilion's facred wall;
Troy, in whofe cause I fell, shall mourn my
He faid, nor Hector to the chief replies,
But shakes his plume, and fierce to combat flies;
Swift as a whirlwind, drives the scattering foes;
And dyes the ground with purple as he goes.

fall.

Beneath a beech, Jove's confecrated fliade, His mournful friends divine Sarpedon laid : Brave Pelagon, his favourite chief, was nigh, Who wrench'd the javelin from his finewy thigh. The fainting foul stood ready wing'd for flight, And o'er his eye-balls fwam the fhades of night; But Boreas rifing fresh, with gentle breath, Recall'd his fpirit from the gates of death.

The generous Greeks recede with tardy pace,
Though Mars and Hector thunder in their face;
None turn their backs to mean ignoble flight,
Slow they retreat, and ev'n retreating fight.
Who first, who laft, by Mars and Hector's hand
Stretch'd in their blood, lay gafping on the fand;
Teuthras the great, Oreftes the renown'd
For manag'd fteeds, and Techus prefs'd the ground:
Next Oenomaus, and Oenops' offspring dy'd;
Orefbius laft fell groaning at their fide;
Orefbius, in his painted mitre gay,

In fat Boeotia held his wealthy fway,
Where lakes furround low Hyle's watery plain;
A prince and people ftudious of their gain.
The carnage Juno from the fkies furvey'd,
And, touch'd with grief, befpoke the blue-ey'd

Maid.

Ob fight accurs'd! fhall faithless Troy prevail,
And thall our promife to our people fail?
How vain the word to Menelaüs given
By Jove's great daughter and the Queen of Heaven,
Beneath his arms that Priam's towers fhould fall;
If warring Gods for ever guard the wall!
Mars, red with flaughter, aids our hated foes:
Hafte, let us arm, and force with force oppofe!

She spoke; Minerva burns to meet the war :
And now heaven's emprefs calls her blazing car.
At her command rush forth the fteeds divine;
Rich with immortal gold their trappings shine.
Bright Hebe waits; by Hebè, ever young,
The whirling wheels are to the chariot hung.
On the bright axle turns the bidden wheel
Of founding brafs; the polifh'd axle steel.
Eight brazen fpokes in radiant order flame;
The circles gold, of uncorrupted frame,
Such as the heavens produce: and round the gold
Two brazen rings of work divine were roll'd.
The bofly knaves of folid filver fhone;
Braces of gold fufpend the moving throne:
The car, behind, an arching figure bore;
The bending concave form'd an arch before.

Silver the beam, th' extended yoke was gold,
And golden reins th' immortal courfers hold.
Herff, impatient, to the ready car

The couriers joins, and breathes revenge and war.
Pallas difrobes; her radiant veil unty'd,
With flow'rs adorn'd, with art diversify'd,
(The labour'd veil her heavenly angers wove)
Flows on the pavement of the court of Jove.
Now heaven's dread arms her mighty limbs inveft,
Jove's cuirafs blazes on her ample breast;
Deck'd in fad triumph for the mournful field,
O'er her broad shoulders hangs his horrid shield,
Dire, black, tremendous! Round the margin roll'd,
A fringe of ferpents hiffing guards the gold:
Here all the terrors of grim War appear,
Here rages Force, here tremble Flight and Feat,
Here form'd Contention, and here Fury frown'd,
And the dire orb portentous Gorgon crown'd.
The mafly golden helm the next affumes,
That dreadful nods, with four o'erthading plumes;
So vaft, the broad circumference contains
A hundred armies on a hundred plains.
The Goddels thus the imperial car afcends;
Shook by her arm the mighty javelin bends,
Ponderous and huge; that, when her fury burns,
Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hofts o'erturns.
Swift at the scourge th' ethereal courfers fly,
While the fmooth chariot cuts the liquid fky.
Heaven's gates (pontaneous open to the powers;
Heaven's golden gates, kept by the winged hours;
Commithou'd in alternate watch they stand,
The fun's bright portals and the skies command,
Involve in clouds th' eternal gates of day,
Or the dark barrier roll with ease away.
The founding hinges ring; on either fide
The gloomy volumes pierc'd with light, divide.
The chariot mounts, where deep in ambient skies
Confus'd, Olympus' hundred heads arife:
Where far apart the Thunderer fills his throne;
O'er all the Gods fuperior and alone.
There with her fnowy hand the Queen restrains
The fiery feeds, and thus to Jove complains:
O Sire! can no refentment touch thy foul?
Can Mars rebel, and does no thunder roll?
What lawless rage on yon forbidden plain,
What rash deftruction! and what heroes flain!
Venps, and Phoebus with the dreadful bow,
Smile on the slaughter, and enjoy my woe.
Mad, furious power! whofe unrelenting mind,
No God can govern, and no juftice bind.
Say, mighty father! fhall we fcourge his pride,
And drive from fight th' impetuous homicide?
To whom affenting thus the Thunderer said:
Go! and the great Minerva be thy aid.
To tame the monster-god Minerva knows,
And oft afflicts his brutal breast with woes.
He faid; Saturnia ardent to obey,
Lab'd her white fteeds along th' aërial way.
Swift down the fteep of heaven the chariot rolls,
Between th' expanded earth and starry poles.
Far as a fhepherd from some point on high,
O'er the wide main extends his boundless eye;
Through fuch a space of air, with thundering found,
At every leap th' immortal courfers bound:
Troy now they reach'd, and touch'd those banks
divide

Whre filver Simoïs and Scamander join.
VOL. XII.

There Juno stopp'd, (and her fair fteeds unloos'd)
Of air condens'd a vapour circumfus'd:
For thefe, impregnate with celeftial dew
On Simoïs' brink ambrofial herbage grew.
Thence to relieve the fainting Argive throng,
Smooth as the failing doves, they glide along.

The best and braveft of the Grecian band
(A warlike circle) round Tydides ftand:
Such was their look as lions bath'd in blood,
Or foaming boars, the terror of the wood.
Heaven's emprefs mingles with the mortal crowd,
And fhouts, in Stentor's founding voice, aloud :
Stentor the strong, endued with brazen lungs,
Whole throat furpafs the force of fifty tongues.
Inglorious Argives! to your race a thame,
And only men in figure and in name!
Once from the walls your timorous foes engag'd,
While fierce in war divine Achilles rag'd;
Now iffuing fearless they pollefs the plain,
Now win the fhores, and carce the feas remain.

Her fpeech new fury to their hearts convey'd;
While near Tydides ftood th' Athenian maid;
The king befide his panting steeds the found,
O'erfpent with toil, repofing on the ground:
To cool his glowing wound he fat apart
(The wound inflicted by the Lycian dart);
Large drops of fweat from all his limbs defcend;
Beneath his ponderous fhield his finews bend,
Whofe ample belt, that o'er his fhoulders lay,
He eas'd, and wash'd the clotted gore away.
The Goddess leaning o'er the bending yoke,
Befide his courfers, thus her filence broke:

Degenerate prince! and not of Tydeus' kind,
Whofe little body lodg'd a mighty mind;
Foremost he prefs'd in glorious toils to share,
And scarce refrain'd when I forebade the war.
Alone, unguarded, once he dar'd to go
And feaft, encircled by the Theban foe;
There brav'd, and vanquifh'd, many a hardy knight;
Such nerves I gave him, and fuch force in fight.
Thou too no lefs haft been my conftant care:
Thy hands I arm'd, and fent thee forth to war :
But thee or fear deters, or floth detains;
No drop of all thy father warms thy veins.
The chief thus anfwer'd mild: Immortal maid!
I own thy prefence, and confefs thy aid.
Not fear, thou know'ft, withholds me from the

plains,

Nor floth hath feiz'd me, but thy word reftrains
From warring Gods thou bad'ft me turn my spear,
And Venus only found refiftance here.

Hence, Goddess! heedful of thy high commands,
Luth I give way, and warn'd our Argive bands:
For Mars, the homicide, thefe eyes beheld,
With flaughter red, and raging round the field.
Then thus Minerva. 'Brave Tydides, hear!
Not Mars himself, nor aught immortal, fear.
Full on the God impel thy foaming horfe:
Pallas commands, and Pallas lends thee force.
Rash, furious, blind, from thefe to thofe he flies,
And every fide of wavering combat tries;
Large promife makes, and breaks the promise made;
Now gives the Grecians, now the Trojans aid.
She faid, and to the steeds approaching near,
Drew from his feat the martial charioteer,
The vigorous power the trembling car afcends,
Fierce for revenge, and Diomed attends.

C

The groaning axle bent beneath the load;
So great a Hero, and fo great a God.
She fnatch'd the reins, the lash'd with all her force,
And full on Mars impell'd the foaming horse:
But firft to hide her heavenly vifage, spread
Black Orcus' helmet o'er her radiant head.
Juft then gigantic Periphas lay flain,
The strongest warrior of th' Ætolian train;
The God, who flew him, leaves his proftrate prize
Stretch'd where he fell, and at Tydides flies.
Now, rufhing fierce, in equal arms appear,
The daring Greek; the dreadful God of war!
Full at the chief, above his courfer's head,
From Mars's arm th' enormous weapon filed:
Pallas oppos'd her hand, and caus'd to glance,
Far from the car, the strong immortal lance.
Then threw the force of Tydeus' warlike fon;
The javelin hifs'd; the Goddefs urg'd it on:
Where the broad cincture girt his armour round,
It pierc'd the God: his groin receiv'd the wound.
From the rent fkin the warrior tugs again
The smoking steel. Mars bellows with the pain:
Loud as the roar encountering armies yield,
When fhouting millions fhake the thundering field.
Both armies ftart, and trembling gaze around;
And earth and heaven rebeliow to the found.
As vapours blown by Aufter's fultry breath,
Pregnant with plagues, and hedding feeds of death,
Beneath the rage of burning Sirius rife,
Choke the perch'd earth, and blacken
fkies;
In fuch a cloud the God from combat driven,
High o'er the dufty whirlwind scales the heaven.
Wild with his pain he fought the bright abodes,
There fullen fat beneath the Sire of Gods,
Show'd the celestial blood, and with a groan
Thus pour'd his plaints before th' immortal throne:

all the

Can Jove, fupine, flagitious facts furvey, And brook the furies of this darng day? For mortal men celeftial powers engage, And Gods on Gods exert eternal rage. From thee, father! all thefe ills we bear, And thy fell daughter with the fhield and fpear: Thou gav'ft that fury to the realms of light, Pernicious, wild, regardless of the right. All heaven befide reveres thy fovereign sway, Thy voice we hear, and thy behefts obey:

'Tis hers t'offend, and ev'n offending share
Thy breaft, thy counfels, thy diftinguish'd care:
So boundless the, and thou so partial grown,
Well may we deem the wonderous birth thy

own.

Now frantic Diomed, at her command,
Against th' Immortals lift his raging hand:
The heavenly Venus firft his fury found,
Me next encountering, me he dar'd to wound;
Vanquish'd I fled: ev'n I the God of fight,
From mortal madness fcarce was fav'd by flight.
Elfe had'ft thou feen me fink on yonder plain,
Heap'd round, and heaving under loads of flain!
Or, pierc'd with Grecian darts, for ages lie,
Condemn'd to pain, though fated not to die.

Him thus upbraiding, with a wrathful look
The Lord of Thunders view'd, and stern bespoke:
To me, perfidious! this lamenting strain?
Of lawless force thall lawless Mars complain?
Of all the Gods who tread the spangled skies,
Thou most unjuft, moft odious in our eyes!
Inhuman difcord is thy dire delight,
The waste of flaughter, and the rage of fight.
No bound, no law, thy fiery temper quells,
And all thy mother in thy foul rebels.
In vain our threats, in vain our power we ufe;
She gives th' example, and her fon pursues.
Yet long th' inflicted pangs thou shalt not mourn,
Sprung fince thou art from Jove, and heavenly born.
Elfe fing'd with lightning had'st thou hence been
thrown,

Where chain'd on burning rocks the Titans groan.

Thus he who thakes Olympus with his nod; Then gave to Pæon's care the bleeding God. With gentle hand the balm he pour'd around, And heal'd th' immortal flesh, and clos'd the wound.

As when the fig's preft juice, infus'd in cream,
To curds coagulates the liquid ftream,
Sudden the fluids ix, the parts combin'd;
Such, and so foon, th' ætherial texture join'd.
Cleans'd from the dust and gore, fair Hebè dreft
His mighty limbs in an immortal veft.
Glorious he fate, in majesty restor❜d,
Faft by the throne of heaven's fuperior Lord.
Juno and Pallas mount the bleft abodes,
Their task perform'd, and mix among the Gods.

BOOK VI.

THE ARGUMENT.

The Epifodes of Glaucus and Diomed, and of Hear and Andromache.

The Gods having left the field, the Grecians prevail. Helenus, the chief augur of Troy, commands Hector to return to the city, in order to appoint a folemn proceffion of the queen and the Trojan matrons to the temple of Minerva, to entreat her to remove Diomed from the fight. The battle relaxing during the abfence of Hector, Glaucus and Diomed have an interview between the two ar mies; where, coming to the knowledge of the friendship and hofpitality paft between their anceftors, they make exchange of their arms. Hector, having performed the orders of Helenus, prevails upon Paris to return to the battle; and, taking a tender leave of his wife Andromache, haftens again to the field.

The scene is first in the field of battle, between the river Simoïs and Scamander, and then change to Troy.

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