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Divine Sarpedon with regret beheld
Disabled Glaucus Nowly quit the field ;
His heating breast with generous ardour glows, 475
He springs to fight, and flies upon the foes.
Alcmäon first was doom'd his force to feel;
Deep in his breast he plung d the pointed steel ;
Then, from the yawning wound with fury tore
The spear, pursued by gushing streams of gore; 489
Down sinks the warriour with a thundering sound,
His brazen armour rings against the ground.

Swift to the battlement the victor flies,
Tugs with full force, and every nerve applies;
It shakes; the ponderous stones disjointed yield; 48$
The rolling ruins smoke along the field.
A mighty breach appears, the walls lie bare;
And, like a deluge, rushes in the war.
At once bold Teucer draws the twanging bow,
And Ajax sends his javelin at the foe:

499 Fix'd in his belt the feather'd weapon stood, And through his buckler drove the trembling wood; But Jove was present in the dire debate, To shield his offspring, and avert his fate. The prince gave back, not meditating fight, 495 But urging vengeance, and severer fight; Then, rais'd with hope, and fir'd with glory's charms, His fainting squadrons to new fury warms : O where, ye Lycians! is the strength you boast? Your former fame and ancient virtue loft!. The breach lies open, but your chief in vain Attempts alone the guarded pass to gain:

500

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Unite, and soon that hoftile fleet hall fall;
The force of powerful union conquers all.
This just rebuke inflam’d the Lycian crew,

505
They join, they thicken, and th' assault renew :
Unmov'd th' embodied Greeks their fury dare,
And fix'd support the weight of all the war;
Nor could the Greeks repel the Lycian powers,
Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian towers.
As, on the confines of adjoining grounds,
Two stubborn fwains with blows dispute their bounds;
They tug, they sweat; but neither gain or yield,
One foot; one inch, of the contended field :
Thus obstinate to death they fight, they fall; 515
Nor these can keep, nor those can win, the wall.
Their manly breasts are pierc'd with many a wound;
Loud strokes are heard; and rattling arms resound;
The copious Naughter covers all the shore,
And the high ramparts drop with human gore.

520 As when two scales are charg’d with doubtful loads; From side to side the trembling balance nods (While some laborious matron, just and poor, With nice exactness weighs her woolly store) Till, pois’d'aloft, the relting beam suspends 525 Each equal weight; nor this, nor that, descends: 30 stood the war, till Hector's matchless might With Fates prevailing; turn'd the scale of fight. Fierce as a whirlwind up the walls he flies, And fires his host with loud repeated cries : 530 Advance, ye Trojans !·lend your valiant hands, Haste to the fleet, and toss-the blazing brands!

They

They hear, they run; and, gathering at his call,
Raise scaling-engines, and ascend the wall:
Around the works a wood of glittering spearg 535
Shoots up,' and all the rising host appears.
A ponderous stone bold Hector heav'd to throw,
Pointed above, and rough and gross below :
Not two strong men th’ enormous weight could raise,
Such imen as live in these degenerate days;

540
Yet this, as easy as a swain could bear
The snowy fleece, he toss’d, and shook in air :
For Jove upheld, and lighten’d of its load
Th' unwieldy-rock, the labour of a God.
Thus arın’d, before the folded

gates

he

came, 545
Of masly subttance, and stupendous frame;
With iron bars and=brazen hinges strong,
On lofty beams of solid timber hung:
Then, thundering through the planks with forceful sway,
Drives the sharp rock; the solid beams give way, 550
The folds are shatter'd; from the crackling door
Leap the resounding bars, the flying hinges roar.
Now rushing in, the furious chief appears,
Gloomy as night! and Thakes two Mining spears:
A dreadful glearn from his bright armour came, 559
And from his eye-balls flash'd the living flame,
He moves a God, resistless in his course,
And seems a match for more than mortal force.
Then pouring after, through the gaping space,
A tide of Trojans flows, and fills the place; 560
The Greeks behold, they tremble, and they fly;
The More is heap'd with death, and tumult rends the sky.

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