To grudge the conquefts mighty Jove prepares,
And view with envy our fuccessful wars.
On that great day when first the martial train,
Big with the fate of Ilion, plow'd the main
Jove, on the right, a profperous fignal fent,
And thunder rolling shook the firmament.
Encourag'd hence, maintain the glorious strife,
Till every foldier grasp a Phrygian wife,
Till Helen's woes at full reveng'd appear,
And Troy's proud matrons render tear for tear.
Before that day, if any Greek invite
His country's troops to base, inglorious flight;
Stand forth that Greek! and hoift his fail to fly,
And die the daftard firft, who dreads to die.
But now, O monarch! all thy chiefs advife:
Nor what they offer, thou thyfelf despise.
Among thofe councils, let not mine be vain;
In tribes and nations to divide thy train ;
His feparate troops let every leader call,
Each ftrengthen each, and all encourage all.
What chief, or foldier, of the numerous band,
Or bravely fights, or ill obeys command,
When thus diftin&t they war, fhall foon be known,
And what the cause of Illion not o'er-thrown;
If fate refifts, or if our arms are flow,
If Gods above prevent, or men below.
To him the king: How much thy years excel
In arts of council, and in speaking well!
◊ would the Gods, in love to Greece, decree
But ten fuch fages as they grant in thee;
Such wifdom foon fhould Priam's force deftroy.
And foon should fall the haughty towers of Troy! 445
But Jove forbids, who plunges thofe he hates
In fierce contention and in vain debates.
Now great Achilles from our aid withdraws,
By me provok'd; a captive maid the cause :
If e'er as friends we join, the Trojan wall
Muft shake, and heavy will the vengeance fall!
But now, ye warriours, take a short repast:
And, well-refresh'd, to bloody conflict haste.
His sharpen'd fpear let every Grecian wield,
And every Grecian fix his brazen fhield;
Let all excite the fiery steeds of war,
And all for combat fit the rattling car.
This day, this dreadful day, let each contend;
No reft, no refpite, till the fhades defcend;
Till darkness, or till death, fhall cover all
Let the war bleed, and let the mighty fall!
Till bath'd in sweat be every manly breaft,
With the huge shield each brawny arm depreft,
Each aching nerve refufe the lance to throw,
And each spent courfer at the chariot blow.
Who dares, inglorious, in his fhips to ftay,
Who dares to tremble on this fignal day;
That wretch, too mean to fall by martial power,
The birds fall mangle, and the dogs devour.
The monarch spoke; and straight a murmur rofe, Loud as the furges when the tempeft blows, That dafh'd on broken rocks tumultuous roar, And foam and thunder on the stony fhore.
Straight to the tents the troops difperfing bend,
The fires are kindled, and the smokes afcend;
With hafty feast they facrifice, and pray
T'avert the dangers of the doubtful day.
A fteer of five years' age, large limb'd, and fed,
To Jove's high altars Agamemnon led:
There bade the nobleft of the Grecian peers;
And Neftor firft, as moft advanc'd in years.
Next came Idomeneus, and Tydeus' fon,
Ajax the lefs, and Ajax Telamon;
Then wife Ulyffes in his rank was plac'd;
And Menelaus came unbid, the laft.
The chiefs furround the destin'd beast, and take
The facred offering of the falted cake.
When thus the king prefers his folemn prayer :
Oh thou! whofe thunder rends the clouded air,
Who in the heaven of heavens has fix'd thy throne,
Supreme of Gods! unbounded and alone!
Hear! and before the burning fun defcends,
Before the night her gloomy veil extends,
Low in the dust be laid yon hoftile fpires,
Be Priam's palace funk in Grecian fires,
In Hector's breast be plung'd this fhining fword,
And slaughter'd heroes groan around their lord!
Thus pray'd the chief: his unavailing prayer
Great Jove refus'd, and toft in empty air :
The God averfe, while yet the fumes arose,
Prepar'd new toils, and doubled woes on woes.
Their prayers perform'd, the chiefs the rite purfue,
The barley fprinkled, and the victim flew.
The limbs they fever from th' inclosing hide,
The thighs, felected to the Gods, divide.
On thefe, in double cauls involv'd with art,
The choiceft morfels lie from every part.
From the cleft wood the crackling flames afpire,
While the fat victim feeds the facred fire.
The thighs thus facrific'd, and entrails drest,
Th' affiftants part, transfix, and roast the rest;
Then spread the tables, the repaft prepare,
Each takes his feat, and each receives his share.
Soon as the rage of hunger was fuppreft,
The generous Neftor thus the prince addreft:
Now bid thy heralds found the loud alarms, And call the fquadrons fheath'd in brazen arms: Now feize th' occafion, now the troops furvey, And lead to war when Heaven directs the way. He faid; the monarch iffued his commands; Straight the loud heralds call the gathering bands. The chiefs inclose their king: the host divide, In tribes and nations rank'd on either fide. High in the midft the blue-ey'd Virgin flies; From rank to rank fhe darts her ardent eyes: The dreadful ægis, Jove's immortal shield, Blaz'd on her arm, and lighten'd all the field: Round the vast orb an hundred ferpent's roll'd, Form'd the bright fringe, and feem'd to burn in gold. With this each Grecian's manly breast she warms, 530 Swells their bold hearts, and strings their nervous arms; No more they figh, inglorious, to return,
But breathe revenge, and for the combat burn.
As on fome mountain, through the lofty grove, The crackling flames ascend, and blaze above; The fires expanding as the winds arise,
Shoot their long beams, and kindle half the skies:
So from the polish'd arms, and brazen shields,
A gleamy fplendour flash'd along the fields.
Not lefs their number than th' embody'd cranes,
Or milk-white swans in Afius' watery plains,
That o'er the windings of Cäyster's fprings,
Stretch their long necks, and clap their rustling wings,
Now tower aloft, and course in airy rounds;
Now light with noife; with noise the field refounds.
Thus numerous and confus'd, extending wide,
The legions crowd Scamander's flowery fide;
With rufhing troops the plains are cover'd o'er,
And thundering footsteps fhake the founding fhore.
Along the river's level meads they stand,
Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land,
Or leaves the trees; or thick as infects play,
The wandering nation of a summer's day,
That, drawn by milky steams, at evening hours,
In gather'd fwarms surround the rural bowers;
From pail to pail with busy murmur run
The gilded legions, glittering in the fun.
So throng'd, so close, the Grecian squadrons stood
In radiant arms, and thirst for Trojan blood,
Each leader now his scatter'd force conjoins
In close array, and forms the deepening lines.
Not with more ease, the skilful fhepherd fwain
Collects his flocks from thousands on the plain.
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