For thus I speak, and what I speak shall stand;
What power foe'er provokes our lifted hand,
On this our hill no more fhall hold his place ;
Cut off, and exil'd, from th' ethereal race.
Juno and Pallas, grieving, hear the doom,
But feaft their fouls on Ilion's woes to come.
Though fecret anger fwell'd Minerva's breaft,
The prudent Goddess yet her wrath represt:
But Juno, impotent of rage, replies :
What haft thou faid, Oh tyrant of the skies!
Strength and omnipotence invest thy throne ;
'Tis thine to punish; ours to grieve alone.
For Greece we grieve, abandon'd by her fate,
To drink the dregs of thy unmeafur'd hate:
From fields forbidden we fubmifs refrain,
With arms unaiding fee our Argives fain;
Yet grant our counfels ftill their breafts may move,
Left all should perish in the rage
of Jove.
The Goddess thus. And thus the God replies :
Who fwells the clouds, and blackens all the skies: 585
The morning fun, awak'd by loud alarms,
Shall fee th' Almighty Thunderer in arms.
What heaps of Argives then shall load the plains,
Those radiant eyes fhall view, and view in vain.
Nor fhall great Hector ceafe the rage of fight,
The navy flaming, and thy Greeks in flight,
Ev'n till the day, when certain fates ordain
That ftern Achilles (his Patroclus flain)
Shall rife in vengeance, and lay waste the plain.
For fuch is fate, nor canft thou turn its course
With all thy rage, with all thy rebel force.
Fly, if thou wilt, to earth's remotest bound,
Where on her utmost verge the feas refound;
Where curs'd läpetus and Saturn dwell,
Faft by the brink, within the steams of hell
No fun e'er gilds the gloomy horrours there;
No chearful gales refresh the lazy air
There arm once more the bold Titanian band;
And arm in vain; for what I will, fhall ftand.
Now deep in ocean funk the lamp of light,
And drew behind the cloudy veil of night :
The conquering Trojans mourn his beams decay'd;
The Greeks, rejoicing, bless the friendly fhade.
The victors keep the field; and Hector calls A martial council near the navy walls : These to Scamander's bank apart he led, Where, thinly scatter'd, lay the heaps of dead. Th' affembled chiefs, defcending on the ground, Attend his order, and their prince furround. A mafly fpear he bore of mighty strength, Of full ten cubits was the lance's length; The point was brafs, refulgent to behold, Fix'd to the wood with circling rings of gold: The noble Hector on this lance reclin'd, And, bending forward, thus reveal'd his mind : Ye valiant Trojans, with attention hear! Ye Dardan bands, and generous aids, give ear! This day, we hop'd, would wrap in conquering flame Greece with her fhips, and crown our toils with fame. But darkness now, to fave the cowards, falls, And guards them trembling in their wooden walls.
Obey the Night, and use her peaceful hours
Our steeds to forage, and refresh our powers.
Straight from the town be sheep and oxen fought,
And ftrengthening bread, and generous wine, be
Wide o'er the field, high blazing to the sky,
Let numerous fires the absent sun supply,
The flaming piles with plenteous fuel raise,
Till the bright morn her purple beam displays;
Left, in the filence and the shades of night,
Greece on her fable fhips attempt her flight.
Not unmolested let the wretches gain
Their lofty decks, or fafely cleave the main ;
Some hoftile wound let every dart bestow,
Some lafting token of the Phrygian foe;
Wounds, that long hence may ask their spouses' care,
And warn their children from a Trojan war.
Now through the circuit of our Ilion wall,
Let facred heralds found the folemn call;
To bid the fires with hoary honours crown'd,
And beardless youths, our battlements furround.
Firm be the guard, while diftant lie our powers,
And let the matrons hang with lights the towers:
Left, under covert of the midnight shade,
Th' infidious foe the naked town invade.
Suffice, to-night, these orders to obey;
A nobler charge shall rouze the dawning day.
The Gods, I truft, fhall give to Hector's hand,
From these detefted foes to free the land,
Who plow'd, with fates averfe, the watery way; 655 For Trojan vultures a predeftin'd prey.
Our common fafety must be now the care;
But foon as morning paints the fields of air,
Sheath'd in bright arms let every troop engage,
And the fir'd fleet behold the battle rage.
Then, then shall HeЯor and Tydides prove,
Whofe fates are heavieft in the fcales of Jove:
To-morrow's light (oh hafte the glorious morn!)
Shall fee his bloody fpoils in triumph borne;
With this keen javelin fhall his breast be gor'd,
And proftrate heroes bleed around their lord.
Certain as this, oh! might my days endure,
From age inglorious, and black death secure;
So might my life and glory know no bound,
Like Pallas worship'd, like the fun renown'd!
As the next dawn, the last they shall enjoy,
Shall crush the Greeks, and end the woes of Troy.
The leader spoke. From all his host around
Shouts of applaufe along the shores refound.
Each from the yoke the smoking steeds unty'd,
And fix'd their headstalls to his chariot-fide.
Fat fheep and oxen from the town are led,
With generous wine, and all-sustaining bread.
Full hecatombs lay burning on the shore;
The winds to heaven the curling vapours bore.
Ungrateful offering to th' immortal powers!
Whose wrath hung heavy o'er the Trojan towers;
Nor Priam nor his fons obtain'd their grace;
Proud Troy they hated, and her guilty race.
The troops exulting fat in order round,
And beaming fires illumin'd all the ground;
As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night!
O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her facred light,
When not a breath disturbs the deep ferene,
And not a cloud o'ercafts the folemn scene;
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole;
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
And tip with filver every mountain's head;
Then shine the vales, the rocks in profpect rife,
A flood of glory bursts from all the skies:
The confcious fwains, rejoicing in the fight,
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light :
flames before proud Ilion blaze,
So many
And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays:
The long reflections of the diftant fires
Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the fpires.
A thousand piles the dusky horrours gild,
And shoot a fhady luftre o'er the field.
Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend,
Whose umber'd arms, by fits, thick flashes fend; 705
Loud neigh the courfers o'er their heaps of corn;
And ardent warriors wait the rifing morn.
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