Though Jove in thunder should command the war;

Be juft, confult my glory, and forbear:

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The fleet once fav'd, defift from farther chace,

Nor lead to Ilion's walls the Grecian race;
Some adverse God thy rafhnefs may destroy;
Some God, like Phoebus, ever kind to Troy,
Let Greece, redeem'd from this destructive strait,
Do her own work; and leave the reft to Fate.
Oh! would to all th' immortal Powers above,
Apollo, Pallas, and almighty Jove,

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

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Such conference held the chiefs; while on the ftrand Great Jove with conqueft crown'd the Trojan band. Ajax no more the founding ftorm sustain'd,

So thick the darts an iron tempeft rain'd :
On his tir'd arm the weighty buckler hung;

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His hollow helm with falling javelins rung;

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His breath, in quick, fhort pantings, comes and goes;
And painful fweat from all his members flows.
Spent and o'erpower'd, he barely breathes at moft;
Yet scarce an army stirs him from his post :
Dangers on dangers all around him grow,
And toil to toil, and woe fucceeds to woe.

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Say, Muses, thron'd above the starry frame, How first the navy blaz'd with Trojan flame? Stern Hector wav'd his fword: and standing near Where furious Ajax ply'd his afhen spear,

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Full on the lance a stroke so justly sped,
That the broad falchion lopp'd its brazen head:
His pointless fpear the warriour shakes in vain ;
The brazen head falls founding on the plain.
Great Ajax faw, and own'd the hand divine,
Confeffing Jove, and trembling at the fign;
Warn'd, he retreats. Then fwift from all fides pour
The hiffing brands; thick ftreams the fiery shower;
O'er the high ftern the curling volumes rise,
And sheets of rolling smoke involve the skies.

Divine Achilles view'd the rifing flames,
And fmote his thigh, and thus aloud exclaims:
Arm, arm, Patroclus! Lo, the blaze afpires!
The glowing ocean reddens with the fires.
Arm, ere our veffels catch the fpreading flame;
Arm, ere the Grecians be no more a name;
I hafte to bring the troops-the hero faid;
The friend with ardour and with joy obey'd.

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He cas'd his limbs in brafs; and first around
His manly legs with filver buckles bound
The clafping greaves; then to his breast applies
The flamy cuirafs, of a thousand dyes;
Emblaz'd with ftuds of gold his falchion fhone
In the rich belt, as in a starry zone:

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Achilles' fhield his ample fhoulders fpread,
Achilles' helmet nodded o'er his head :

Adorn'd in all his terrible array,

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He flash'd around intolerable day.

Alone, untouch'd, Pelides' javelin stands,

Not to be pois'd but by Pelides' hands;

From

From Pelion's fhady brow the plant entire
Old Chiron rent, and shap'd it for his fire;
Whofe fon's great arm alone the weapon wields,
The death of heroes, and the dread of fields.

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 courfers harness'd to the car;

Xanthus and Balius, of immortal breed,
Sprung from the wind, and like the wind in fpeed;
Whom the wing'd Harpy, fwift Podarge, bore,
By Zephyr pregnant on the breezy shore :
Swift Pedafus was added to their fide
(Once great Aëtion's, now Achilles' pride)
Who, like in ftrength, in fwiftnefs, and in grace,
A mortal courfer, match'd th' immortal race.

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Achilles speeds from tent to tent, and warms 100 His hardy Myrmidons to blood and arms.

All breathing death, around their chief they ftand,
A grim terrific formidable band:

Grim as voracious wolves, that feek the springs
When fcalding thirst their burning bowels wrings; 195
When fome tall ftag, fresh-flaughter'd in the wood,
Has drench'd their wide infatiate throats with blood,
To the black fount they rush, a hideous throng,
With paunch diftended, and with lolling tongue,
Fire fills their eye, their black jaws belch the gore, 200
And, gorg'd with flaughter, ftill they thirst for more.
Like furious rufh'd the Myrmidonian crew,

Such their dread ftrength, and fuch their deathful view.

High in the midft the great Achilles stands,
Directs their order, and the war commands.
He, lov'd of Jove, had launch'd from Ilion's fhores
Full fifty veffels, mann'd with fifty oars :
Five chofen leaders the fierce bands obey,
Himself supreme in valour, as in sway.

First march'd Meneftheus, of celestial birth,
Deriv'd from thee, whose waters wash the earth,
Divine Spirchius! Jove-defcending flood!
A mortal mother mixing with a God.
Such was Meneftheus, but miscall'd by fame
The fon of Borus, that efpous'd the dame.
Eudorus next; whom Polymele the gay,
Fam'd in the graceful dance, produc'd to day.
Her, fly Cellenius lov'd, on her would gaze,
As with fwift ftep she form'd the running maze :
To her high chamber, from Diana's quire,
The God pursued her, urg'd, and crown'd his fire.
The fon confefs'd his father's heavenly race,
And heir'd his mother's fwiftnefs in the chace.
Strong Echecleus, bleft in all those charms
That pleas'd a God, fucceeded to her arms;
Not confcious of thofe loves, long hid from fame,

With gifts of price he fought and won the dame;
Her fecret offspring to her fire the bare;

Her fire carefs'd him with a parent's care.

Pifander follow'd; matchlefs in his art To wing the fpear, or aim the diftant dart; No hand fo fure of all th' Emathian line, Or if a furer, great Patroclus! thine.

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The fourth by Phoenix' grave command was grac'd ; Laërces' valiant offspring led the laft.

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Soon as Achilles with fuperior care

Had call'd the chiefs, and order'd all the war,
This ftern remembrance to his troops he gave:
Ye far-fam'd Myrmidons, ye fierce and brave!
Think with what threats you dar'd the Trojan throng,
Think what reproach thefe ears endur'd fo long,

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"Stern fon of Peleus!" (thus ye us'd to fay, While, reftlefs, raging, in your fhips you lay). "Oh nurs'd with gall, unknowing how to yield; "Whose rage defrauds us of fo fam'd a field; "If that dire fury muft for ever burn, "What make we here? Return; ye chiefs, return!" Such were your words--Now, warriours, grieve no more. Lo there the Trojans! bathe your fwords in gore! This day fhall give you all your foul demands; Glut all your hearts! and weary all your hands! Thus while he rouz'd the fire in every breaft, Clofe, and more clofe, the liftening cohorts preft; Ranks wedg'd 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 ftrength defenfive againft wind and storms, Compacted ftones the thickening work compofe, And round him wide the rifing structure grows: So helm to helm, and creft to creft they throng, Shield urg'd on fhield, and man drove man along; Thick, undiftinguish'd plumes, together join'd,

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Float in one fea, and wave before the wind.

Far