Yet cooler thoughts thy elder years attend;
Let thy just counsels aid, and rule thy friend."
Thus spoke your father at Thessalia's court;
Words now forgot, though now of vast import.
Ah! try the utmost that a friend can say,
Such gentle force the fiercest minds obey.
Some favouring God Achilles' heart may move;
Though deaf to glory, he may yield to love.
If some dire oracle his breast alarm,
If aught from heaven withhold his saving arn;
Some beam of comfort yet on Greece may shine,
If thou but lead the Myrmidonian line;
Clad in Achilles' arms if thou appear,
Proud Troy may tremble, and desist from war;
Press'd by fresh forces her o'erlabour'd train
Shall seek their walls, and Greece respire again.
This touch'd his generous heart, and from the tent, Along the shore with hasty strides he went; Soon as he came, where, on the crowded strand, The public mart and courts of justice stand, Where the tall fleet of Great Ulysses lies, And altars to the guardian Gods arise; There sad he met the brave Evæmon's son, Large painful drops from all his members run; An arrow's head yet rooted in his wound, The sable blood in circles mark'd the ground. As faintly reeling he confess'd the smart, Weak was his pace, but dauntless was his heart; Divine compassion touch'd Patroclus' breast, Who, sighing, thus his bleeding friend address'd: Ah, hapless leaders of the Grecian host! Thus must ye perish on a barbarous coast! Is this your fate, to glut the dogs with gore, Far from your friends, and from your native shore? Say, great Eurypylus! shall Greece yet stand? Resists she yet the raging Hector's hand? Or are her heroes doom'd to die with shame, And this the period of our wars and fame?
Eurypylus replies: No more my friend,
Greece is no more! this day her glories end.
E'en to the ships victorious Troy pursues,
Her force increasing as her toil renews.
Those chiefs, that us'd her utmost rage to meet,
Lie pierc'd with wounds, and bleeding in the fleet.
But thou, Fatroclus! act a friendly part,
Lead to my ships, and draw this deadly dart;
With lukewarm water wash the gore away,
With healing balms the raging smart allay,
Such as sage Chiron, sire of pharmacy,
Once taught Achilles, and Achilles thee.
Of two fam'd surgeons, Podalirius stands
This hour surrounded by the Trojan bands;
And great Machaon, wounded in his tent.
To him the chief.
What then remains to do?
Th' event of things the Gods alone can view.
Charg'd by Achilles' great command I fly,
And bear with haste the Pylian king's reply:
But thy distress this instant claims relief."
He said, and in his arms upheld the chief.
The slaves their master's slow approach survey'd,
And hides of oxen on the floor display'd:
There stretch'd at length, the wounded hero lay,
Patroclus cut the forky steel away.
Then in his hands a bitter root he bruis'd;
The wound he wash'd, the styptic juice infus'd.
The closing flesh that instant ceas'd to glow,
The wound to torture and the blood to flow.
THE ARGUMENT.
The Battle at the Grecian Wall.
The Greeks being retired into their intrenchments, Hector atte.pt to force them; but it proving impossible to pass the ditch, Polydamas advises to quit their chariots, and manage the attack on foot. The Trojans follow his counsel, and hav ing divided their army into five bodies of foot, begin the as sault. But upon the signal of an eagle with a serpent in his talons, which appeared on the left hand of the Trojans, Polydamas endeavoured to withdraw them again. This Hector opposes, and continues the attack; in which, after many ac tions, Sarpedon makes the first breach in the wall: Hector also casting a stone of vast size, forces open one of the gates, and enters at the head of his troops, who victoriously pursue the Grecians even to their ships.
WHILE thus the hero's pious cares attend
The cure and safety of his wounded friend,
Trojans and Greeks with clashing shields engage,
And mutual deaths are dealt with mutual rage.
Vor long the trench of lofty walls oppose;
With Gods averse, th' ill-fated works arose;
Their powers neglected, and no victim slain,
The walls were rais'd, the trenches sunk in vain.
Without the Gods, how short a period stands
The proudest monument of mortal hands!
This stood while Hector and Achilles' rag'd,
While sacred Troy the warring hosts engag'd;
But when her sons were slain, her city burn'd,
And what surviv'd of Greece to Greece return'd,
Then Neptune and Apollo shook the shore,
Then Ida's summits pour'd their watery store;
Rhesus and Rhodius then unite their rills,
Caresus roaring down the stony hills,
sepus, Granicus, with mingled force,
And Xanthus foaming from his fruitful source;
And gulfy Simoïs, rolling to the main,
Helmets, and shields, and godlike heroes slain:
These, turn'd by Phoebus from their wonted ways,
Delug'd the rampire nine continual days;
The weight of waters saps the yielding wall,
And to the sea the floating bulwarks fall.
Incessant cataracts the Thunderer pours,
And half the skies descend in sluicy showers.
The God of Ocean, marching stern before,
With his huge trident wounds the trembling shore,
Vast stones and piles from their foundation heaves,
And whelms the smoky ruin in the waves.
Now smooth'd with sand, and levell'd by the flood,
No fragment tells where once the wonder stood:
In their old bounds the rivers roll again,
Shine 'twixt the hills, or wander o'er the plain.
But this the Gods in later times perform;
As yet the bulwark stood, and brav'd the storm,
The strokes yet echoed of contending powers;
War thunder'd at the gates, and blood distain'd the
Smote by the arm of Jove, and dire dismay, [towers.
Close by their hollow ships the Grecians lay:
Hector's approach in every wind they hear,
And Hector's fury every moment fear.
He, like a whirlwind, toss'd the scattering throng,
Mingled the troops, and drove the field along.
So midst the dogs and hunters daring bands,
Fierce of his might, a boar or lion stands;
Arm'd foes around a dreadful circle form,
And hissing javelins rain an iron storm:
His powers untam'd their bold assault defy,
And where he turns, the rout disperse, or die:
He foams, he glares, he bounds against them all,
And if he falls, his courage makes him fall.
With equal rage encompass'd Hector glows;
Exhorts his armies, and the trenches shows.
The panting steeds impatient fury breathe,
But short and tremble at the gulf beneath;
Just on the brink they neigh, and paw
the ground,
And the turf trembles, and the skies resound.
Eager they view'd the prospect dark and deep,
Vast was the leap, and headlong hung the steep;
The bottom bare, (a formidable show!)
And bristled thick with sharpen'd stakes below.
The foot alone this strong defence could force,
And try the pass impervious to the horse.
This saw Polydamas; who wisely brave,
Restrain'd great Hector, and this counsel gave:
O thou! bold leader of the Trojan bands,
And you, confederate chiefs from foreign lands!
What entrance here can cumbrous chariots find,
The stakes beneath, the Grecian walls behind?
No pass through those, without a thousand wounds,
No space for combat in yon narrow bounds.
Proud of the favours mighty Jove has shown,
On certain dangers we too rashly run:
If 'tis his will our haughty foes to tame,
Oh may this instant end the Grecian name!
Here, far from Argos, let their heroes fall,
And one great day destroy, and bury all!
But should they turn, and here oppress our train,
What hopes, what methods of retreat remain?
Wedg'd in the trench, by our own troops confus'd,
In one promiscuous carnage crush'd and bruis'd;
All Troy must perish if their arms prevail,
Nor shall a Trojan live to tell the tale.
Hear then, ye warriors! and obey with speed;
Back from the trenches let your steeds be led,
The "alighting, wedg'd in firm array,
Proceed on foot, and Hector lead the way.
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