Toils unforeseen, and fiercer, are decreed;
More woes fhall follow, and more heroes bleed.
So bodes my foul, and bids me thus advise :
For thus a fkilful feer would read the fkies.
To him then Hector with difdain return'd;
(Fierce as he spoke, his eyes with fury burn'd)
Are thefe the faithful counfels of thy tongue?
Thy will is partial, not thy reason wrong:
Or, if the purpose of thy heart thou vent,
Sure Heaven refumes the little fenfe it lent.
What coward counfels would thy madness move,
Against the word, the will reveal'd of Jove?
The leading fign, th' irrevocable nod,
And happy thunders of the favouring God,
Thefe fhall I flight? and guide my wavering mind
By wandering birds, that flit with every wind?
Ye vagrants of the sky! your wings extend,
Or where the funs arife, or where defcend;
To right, to left, unheeded take your way,
While I the dictates of high Heaven obey.
Without a fign his sword the brave man draws,
And asks no omen but his country's cause.
But why shouldft thou suspect the war's fuccefs.? 285.
None fears it more, as none promotes
Though all our chiefs amid yon fhips expire,
Truft thy own cowardife t' escape their fire.
Troy and her fons may find a general grave,
But thou canft live, for thou canst be a flave.
Yet fhould the fears that wary mind fuggefts
Spread their cold poifon through our foldiers' breasts,
My javelin can revenge fo base a part,
And free the foul that quivers in thy heart.
Furious he spoke, and, rushing to the wall,
Calls on his hoft; his hoft obey the call;
With ardour follow where their leader flies:
Redoubling clamours thunder in the fkies.
Jove breathes a whirlwind from the hills of Ide,
And drifts of duft the clouded navy hide :
He fills the Greeks with terrour and difmay,
And gives great Hector the predeftin'd day.
Strong in themselves, but ftronger, in their aid,
Close to the works their rigid fiege they laid.
In vain the mounds and maffy beams defend,
While these they undermine, and those they rend;
Upheave the piles that prop the folid wall;
And heaps on heaps the fmoky ruins fall.
Greece on her rampart stands the fierce alarms;
The crouded bulwarks blaze with waving arms, 310.
Shield touching shield, a long refulgent row;
Whence hiffing darts, inceffant, rain below.
The bold Ajaces fly from tower to tower,
And rouze, with flame divine, the Grecian power.
The generous impulfe every Greek obeys;
Threats urge the fearful; and the valiant, praise.
Fellows in arms! whofe deeds are known to fame,
And you whofe ardour hopes an equal name!
Since not alike endued with force or art;
Behold a day when each may act his part!
A day to fire the brave, and warm the cold,
To gain new glories, or augment the old.
Urge those who stand; and those who faint, excite;
Drown Hector's vaunts in loud exhorts of fight;
Conqueft, not fafety, fill the thoughts of all;
Seek not your fleet, but fally from the wall;
So Jove once more may drive their routed train,
And Troy lie trembling in her walls again.
Their ardour kindles all the Grecian powers;
And now the ftones defcend in heavier fhowers.
As when high Jove his sharp artillery forms,
And opes his cloudy magazine of storms;
In winter's bleak, uncomfortable reign,
A fnowy inundation hides the plain;
He ftills the winds, and bids the fkies to fleep;
Then pours the filent tempeft, thick and deep:
And first the mountain-tops are cover'd o'er,
Then the green fields, and then the fandy shore;
Bent with the weight the nodding woods are seen,
And one bright waste hides all the works of men : 340
The circling feas alone, abforbing all,
Drink the diffolving fleeces as they fall.
So from each fide increas'd the ftony rain,
And the white ruin rifes o'er the plain.
Thus god-like Hector and his troops contend To force the ramparts, and the gates to rend; Nor Troy could conquer, nor the Greeks would yield,
Till great Sarpedon tower'd amid the field;
For mighty Jove infpir'd with martial flame
His matchlefs fon, and urg'd him on to fame.
In arms he fhines, confpicuous from afar,
And bears aloft his ample fhield in air
Within whofe orb the thick bull-hides were roll'd,
Ponderous with brafs, and bound with ductile gold:
And, while two pointed javelins arm his hands, 355
Majestic moves along, and leads his Lycian bands.
So, prefs'd with hunger, from the mountain's brow
Defcends a lion on the flocks below;
So ftalks the lordly favage o'er the plain,
Ín fullen majesty, and stern difdain:
In vain loud mastiffs bay him from afar,
And fhepherds gall him with an iron war;
Regardlefs, furious, he purfues his way;
He foams, he roars, he rends the panting prey.
Refolv'd alike, divine Sarpedon glows
With generous rage that drives him on the foes.
He views the towers, and meditates their fall,
To fure deftruction dooms th' afpiring wall;
Then, cafting on his friend an ardent look,
Fir'd with the thirst of glory, thus he spoke :
Why boast we, Glaucus! our extended reign,
Where Xanthus' ftreams enrich the Lycian plain,
Our numerous herds that range the fruitful field,
And hills where vines their purple harvest yield,
Our foaming bowls with purer nectar crown'd,
Our feasts enhanc'd with musick's sprightly found?
Why on those fhores are we with joy furvey'd,
Admir'd as heroes, and as Gods obey'd;
Unless great acts fuperior merit prove,
And vindicate the bounteous Powers above?
'Tis ours, the dignity they give to grace;
The first in valour, as the first in place:
That when with wondering eyes our martial bands.. Behold our deeds tranfcending our commands,
Such, they may cry, deferve the fovereign state,
Whom those that envy, dare not imitate!
Could all our care elude the gloomy grave,
Which claims no lefs the fearful than the brave,
For luft of fame I should not vainly dare
In fighting fields, nor urge thy foul to war.
But fince, alas! ignoble age muft come,
Difeafe, and death's inexorable doom;
The life which others pay, let us bestow,
And give to fame what we to nature owe;
Brave though we fall, and honour'd if we live,
Or let us glory gain, or glory give!
He faid; his words the liftening chief infpire
With equal warmth, and rouze the warriour's fire;
The troops pursue their leaders with delight,
Rush to the foe, and claim the promis'd fight.
Meneftheus from on high the storm beheld
Threatening the fort, and blackening in the field:
Around the walls he gaz'd, to view from far
What aid appear'd t' avert th' approaching war,
And faw where Teucer with th' Ajaces stood,
Of fight infatiate, prodigal of blood.
In vain he calls; the din of helms and fhields
Rings to the skies, and echoes through the fields,
The brazen hinges fly, the walls resound,
Heaven trembles, roar the mountains, thunders all the ground.
Then thus to Thoös ;-Hence with speed (he faid) And urge the bold Ajaces to our aid;
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