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Around his temples fpreads his golden wing,
And thus the flattering dream deceives the king:
Canft thou, with all a monarch's cares oppreft, 25
Oh Atreus' fon! canft thou indulge thy reft
Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides,
Directs in council, and in war prefides,
To whom its fafety a whole people owes,
To wafte long nights in indolent repose.
Monarch, awake! 'tis Jove's command I bear;
Thou, and thy glory, claim his heavenly care.
In just array draw forth th' embattled train,
Lead all thy Grecians to the dusty plain;
Ev'n now, O king! 'tis given thee to destroy
The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy.
For now no more the Gods with Fate contend,
At Juno's fuit the heavenly factions end.
Deftruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall,
And nodding Ilion waits th' impending fall.
Awake, but waking this advice approve,
And trust the vifion that defcends from Jove.
The phantom faid; then vanish'd from his fight,
Refolves to air, and mixes with the night.

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A thousand schemes the monarch's mind employ; 45 Elate in thought, he facks untaken Troy :

Vain as he was, and to the future blind;

Nor faw what Jove and fecret Fate defign'd,

What mighty toils to either host remain,

What fcenes of grief, and numbers of the slain!
Eager he rifes, and in fancy hears

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The voice celestial murmuring in his ears.

Firft on his limbs a flender veft he drew,
Around him next the regal mantle threw ;
Th' embroider'd fandals on his feet were tied ;
The starry faulchion glitter'd at his fide;
And laft his arm the maffy fceptre loads,
Unftain'd, immortal, and the gift of Gods.
Now rosy morn ascends the court of Jove,
Lifts up her light, and opens day above.
The king dispatch'd his heralds with commands
Το
range the camp and fummon all the bands:
The gathering hofts the monarch's word obey;
While to the fleet Atrides bends his way.
In his black ship the Pylian prince he found;
There calls a fenate of the Peers around:
Th' affembly plac'd, the king of men exprest
The counfels labouring in his artful breast:
Friends and confederates! with attentive ear
Receive my words, and credit what
you hear.
Late as I flumber'd in the fhades of night,
A dream divine appear'd before my fight;
Whofe vifionary form like Neftor came,
The fame in habit, and in mien the fame.

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The heavenly phantom hover'd o'er my head,

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And, doft thou sleep, Oh Atreus' fon? (he faid)

Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides,

Directs in council, and in war prefides,
To whom its fafety a whole people owes ;

To wafte long nights in indolent repofe.
Monarch, awake! 'tis Jove's command I bear,
Thou and thy glory claim his heavenly care.

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In just array draw forth th' embattled train,
And lead the Grecians to the dusty plain;
Ev'n now, O king! 'tis given thee to destroy
The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy.
For now no more the Gods with Fate contend,
At Juno's fuit the heavenly factions end.
Destruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall,
And nodding Ilion waits th` impending fall.
This hear obfervant, and the Gods obey!
The vifion spoke, and past in air away.

Now, valiant chiefs! fince Heaven itself alarms;
Unite, and rouze the fons of Greece to arms.
But first with caution try what yet they dare,
Worn with nine years of unsuccessful war!
To move the troops to measure back the main,
Be mine; and your's the province to detain.

He fpoke, and fat; when Neftor rifing said,
(Neftor, whom Pylos' fandy realms obey'd)
Princes of Greece, your faithful ears incline,
Nor doubt the vision of the Powers divine;
Sent by great Jove to him who rules the hoft,
Forbid it Heaven! this warning fhould be loft!
Then let us hafte, obey the God's alarms,
And join to roufe the fons of Greece to arms.
Thus spoke the fage: the kings without delay
Diffolve the council, and their chief obey:
The fceptred rulers lead; the following host
Pour'd forth by thousands, darkens all the coaft.
As from fome rocky cleft the shepherd fees
Cluftering in heaps on heaps the driving bees,

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Rolling,

Rolling, and blackening, fwarms fucceeding fwarms,
With deeper murmurs and more hoarse alarms;
Dusky they spread, a clofe embody'd crowd,
And o'er the vale descends the living cloud.

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So, from the tents and ships, a lengthening train
Spreads all the beach, and wide o'erfhades the plain :
Along the region runs a deafening found;
Beneath their footsteps groans the trembling ground.
Fame flies before, the meffenger of Jove,
And shining foars, and claps her wings above.
Nine facred heralds now, proclaiming loud

The monarch's will, suspend the listening crowd.
Soon as the throngs in order rang'd appear,
And fainter murmurs dy'd upon the ear,
The King of Kings his awful figure rais'd;
High in his hand the golden fceptre blaz'd:
The golden fceptre, of celestial frame,

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By Vulcan form'd, from Jove to Hermes came:
To Pelops he th' immortal gift resign'd;
Th' immortal gift great Pelops left behind,

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In Atreus' hand, which not with Atreus ends,
To rich Thyeftes next the prize descends :
And now the mark of Agamemnon's reign,
Subjects all Argos, and controls the main.

On this bright sceptre now the king reclin'd,
And artful thus pronounc'd the fpeech defign'd:
Ye fons of Mars! partake your leader's care,
Heroes of Greece, and brothers of the war!
Of partial Jove with juftice I complain,
And heavenly oracles believ'd in vain.

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A fafe return was promis'd to our toils,
Renown'd, triumphant, and enrich'd with spoils.
Now fhameful flight alone can fave the hoft,
Our blood, our treasure, and our glory lost.
So Jove decrees, refiftlefs lord of all!

At whose command whole empires rife or fall:
He shakes the feeble props of human trust,

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And towns and armies humbles to the duft.
What shame to Greece a fruitlefs war to wage,
Oh lafting fhame in every future age!

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Once great in arms,
the common fcorn we grow,
Repuls'd and baffled by a feeble foe.

So fmall their number, that if wars were ceas'd,
And Greece triumphant held a general feast,
All rank'd by tens; whole decads when they dine
Muft want a Trojan slave to pour the wine.
But other forces have our hopes o'erthrown,
And Troy prevails by armies not her own.
Now nine long years of mighty Jove are run,
Since first the labours of this war begun :
Our cordage torn, decay'd our veffels lie,
And scarce enfure the wretched power to fly.
Haste then, for ever leave the Trojan wall!
Our weeping wives, our tender children call:
Love, duty, fafety, fummon us away,
'Tis nature's voice, and nature we obey.

Our shatter'd barks may yet transport us o'er,
Safe and inglorious, to our native shore.
Fly, Grecians, fly, your fails and oars employ,
And dream no more of Heaven-defended Troy.

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