Hoft against hoft; they meet, they clofe, and ranks.
Tumble on ranks; no thoughts appear of flight,
None of difmay: dubious in even scales
The battle hangs; not fiercer, ravenous wolves
Dispute the prey; the deathful scene with joy
Difcord, dire parent of tremendous woes,
Surveys exultant: of th' immortal train
Difcord alone defcends, affifts alone
The horrors of the field; in peace the Gods
High in Olympian bowers on radiant thrones
Lament the woes of man; but loud complaints
From every God arofe; Jove favour'd Troy,
At partial Jove they murmur'd: he unmov'd
All heaven in murmurs heard, apart he fate
Enthron'd in glory: down to earth he turn'd
His tedfaft eye, and from his throne furvey'd
The rifing towers of Troy, the tented fhores,
The blaze of arms, the flayer and the flain.
While, with his morning wheels, the God of day
Climb'd up the steep of heaven, with equal rage
In murderous ftorms the fhafts from hoft to hoft
Flew adverfe, and in equal numbers fell
Promifcuous Greek and Trojan, till the hour
When the tir'd woodman in the shady vale
Spreads his penurious meal, when high the fun
Flames in the zenith, and his finewy arms
Scarce wield the ponderous ax, while hunger keen
Admonishes, and nature spent with toil
Craves due repaft-Then Greece the ranks of Troy
With horrid inroad goar'd; fierce from the van
Sprung the stern king of men; and breathing death
Where in firm battle, Trojans band by band
Embody'd ftood, pursued his dreadful way;
His hoft his ftep attends; now glows the war,
Horfe treads on horfe, and man encountering man,
Swells the dire field with death, the plunging steeds
Beat the firm glebes; thick duft in rising clouds
Darkens the sky: Indignant o'er the plain
Atrides ftalks; death every step attends.
As when, in fome huge foreft, fudden flames
Rage dreadful, when rough winds affilt the blaze,
From tree to tree the fiery torrent rolls,
And the vast foreft finks with all its groves
Beneath the burning deluge; fo whole hosts
Yield to Atrides' arm: car against car
Rush'd rattling o'er the field, and through the ranks
Unguided broke; while breathlefs on the ground
Lay the pale charioteers: In death deform'd;
To their chafte brides fad fpectacles of woe,
Now only grateful to the fowls of air.
Mean time, the care of Jove, great Hector ftood Secure in fcenes of death, in ftorms of darts,
In flaughter and alarms, in duft and blood.
Still Agamemnon rufhing o'er the field
Leads his bold bands: whole hofts before him fly, Now Ilus' tomb they pafs, now urge their way Clote by the fig-tree fhade: with fhouts the king
Purfues the foe inceffant, duft and blood,
Blood mixed with duft, diftains his murderous hands.
As when a lion in the gloom of night
Invades an herd of beeves, o'er all the plains
Trembling they scatter: furious on the prey
The generous favage flies, and with fierce joy
Seizes the laft: his hungry foaming jaws
Churn the black blood, and rend the panting prey.
Thus fled the foe, Atrides thus pursued,
And ftill the hindmoft flew they from their cars
Fell headlong, for his javelin, wild for blood,
Rag'd terribly; and now proud Troy had fal'n,
But the dread Sire of men and Gods defcends
Terrific from his heavens, his vengeful hand
Ten thousand thunders grafps: on Ida's heights
He takes his ftand, it shakes with all its groves
Beneath the God; the God fufpends the war.
To Mrs. E LI z. MT, on her Picture,
wondrous art, that grace to fhadows gives! By whofe command the lovely phantom lives! Smiles with her fmiles! the mimic eye inftills A real frame! the fancy'd lightning kills! Thus mirrors catch the love-infpiring face, And the new charmer grace returns for grace.
Hence fhall thy beauties, when no more appears
Their fair poffeffor, fhine a thousand years:
By age uninjur'd, future times adorn,
And warm the hearts of millions yet unborn,
Who, gazing on the portrait with a figh,
Shall grieve fuch perfect charms could ever die :
How would they grieve, if to fuch beauties join'd
The paint could fhew the wonders of thy mind?
O! virgin, born th' admiring world to grace!
Tranfmit thy excellence to latest days;
Yield to thy lover's vows! and then shall rife
A race of beauties conquering with thine eyes:
Who reigning in thy charms from death fhall fave
That lovely form, and triumph o'er the grave.
Thus when through age the rofe-tree's charms decay, When all her fading beauties die away ;
A blooming offspring fills the parent's place
With equal fragrance, and with equal grace.
But ah! how fhort a date on earth is given
To the most lovely workmanship of heaven?
Too foon that cheek muft every charm refign,
And thofe love-darting eyes forget to shine!
While thoufands, weeping round, with fighs furvey
What once was younow only beauteous clay!
Ev'n from the canvas fhall thy image fade,
And thou re-perish in thy perifh'd shade:
Then may this verfe to future ages show
One perfect beauty-fuch as thou art now!
May it the graces of thy foul display,
Till this world finks, and funs themselves decay;
When with immortal beauty thou shalt rife,
To fhine the loveliest angel in the skies.
To Mr. FENTON's excellent Tragedy MARIAMNE.
WHEN breathing ftatues mouldering wafte away,
And tombs, unfaithful to their trust, decay;
The Mufe rewards the fuffering good with fame,
Or wakes the profperous villain into shame;
To the ftern tyrant gives fictitious power
To reign the restless monarch of an hour.'
Obedient to her call, this night appears
Great Herod rifing from a length of years;
A name! enlarg'd with titles not his own,
Servile to mount, and favage on a throne;
Yet oft a throne is dire misfortune's feat,
pompous wretchedness, and woe in state!
But fuch the curfe that from ambition springs,
For this, he flaughter'd half a race of kings:
But now, reviving in the British scene,
He looks majestic with a milder mien,
His features foften'd with the deep distress
Of love, made greatly wretched by excess :
From luft of power to jealous fury tost,
We fee the tyrant in the lover lost.
O! Love, thou fource of mighty joy or woe!
Thou softeft friend, or man's most dangerous foe!
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