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brave, Who now lay silent in the gloomy grave: The first who boldly touch’d the Trojan shore, And dyed a Phrygian lance with Grecian gore; There lies, far distant from his native plain; Unfinish’d his proud palaces remain,

And his sad consort beats her breast in vain.

His troops in forty ships Podarces led, Iphiclus’ son, and brother to the dead; Nor he unworthy to command the host;

Yet still they mourn’d their ancient leader lost.

 

The men who Glaphyra’s fair soil partake, Where hills incircle Boebe’s lowly lake, Where Phaere hears the neighbouring waters fall, Or proud Iolcus lifts her airy wall,

In ten black ships embark’d for Ilion’s shore, With bold Eumelus, whom Alceste bore:

All Pelias’ race Alceste far outshined, The grace and glory of the beauteous kind, The troops Methone or Thaumacia yields, Olizon’s rocks, or Meliboea’s fields,

With Philoctetes sail’d whose matchless art From the tough bow directs the feather’d dart.

Seven were his ships; each vessel fifty row, Skill’d in his science of the dart and bow.

But he lay raging on the Lemnian ground, A poisonous hydra gave the burning wound; There groan’d the chief in agonizing pain, Whom Greece at length shall wish, nor wish in vain.

His forces Medon led from Lemnos’ shore, Oileus’ son, whom beauteous Rhena bore.

 

The OEchalian race, in those high towers contain’d Where once Eurytus in proud triumph reign’d, Or where her humbler turrets Tricca rears, Or where Ithome, rough with rocks, appears, In thirty sail the sparkling waves divide, Which Podalirius and Machaon guide.

To these his skill their parent-god imparts, Divine professors of the healing arts.

 

The bold Ormenian and Asterian bands

In forty barks Eurypylus commands.

Where Titan hides his hoary head in snow, And where Hyperia’s silver fountains flow.

Thy troops, Argissa, Polypoetes leads,

And Eleon, shelter’d by Olympus’ shades, Gyrtone’s warriors; and where Orthe lies, And Oloosson’s chalky cliffs arise.

Sprung from Pirithous of immortal race, The fruit of fair Hippodame’s embrace,

(That day, when hurl’d from Pelion’s cloudy head, To distant dens the shaggy Centaurs fled) With Polypoetes join’d in equal sway

Leonteus leads, and forty ships obey.

 

In twenty sail the bold Perrhaebians came From Cyphus, Guneus was their leader’s name.

With these the Enians join’d, and those who freeze Where cold Dodona lifts her holy trees; Or where the pleasing Titaresius glides, And into Peneus rolls his easy tides;

Yet o’er the silvery surface pure they flow, The sacred stream unmix’d with streams below, Sacred and awful! from the dark abodes

Styx pours them forth, the dreadful oath of gods!

 

Last, under Prothous the Magnesians stood, (Prothous the swift, of old Tenthredon’s blood;) Who dwell where Pelion, crown’d with piny boughs, Obscures the glade, and nods his shaggy brows; Or where through flowery Tempe Peneus stray’d: (The region stretch’d beneath his mighty shade:) In forty sable barks they stemm’d the main; Such were the chiefs, and such the Grecian train.

 

Say next, O Muse! of all Achaia breeds, Who bravest fought, or rein’d the noblest steeds?

Eumelus’ mares were foremost in the chase, As eagles fleet, and of Pheretian race; Bred where Pieria’s fruitful fountains flow, And train’d by him who bears the silver bow.

Fierce in the fight their nostrils breathed a flame, Their height, their colour, and their age the same; O’er fields of death they whirl the rapid car, And break the ranks, and thunder through the war.

Ajax in arms the first renown acquired, While stern Achilles in his wrath retired: (His was the strength that mortal might exceeds, And his the unrivall’d race of heavenly steeds:) But Thetis’ son now shines in arms no more; His troops, neglected on the sandy shore.

In empty air their sportive javelins throw, Or whirl the disk, or bend an idle bow: Unstain’d with blood his cover’d chariots stand; The immortal coursers graze along the strand; But the brave chiefs the inglorious life deplored, And, wandering o’er the camp, required their lord.

 

Now, like a deluge, covering all around, The shining armies sweep along the ground; Swift as a flood of fire, when storms arise, Floats the wild field, and blazes to the skies.

Earth groan’d beneath them; as when angry Jove Hurls down the forky lightning from above, On Arime when he the thunder throws,

And fires Typhoeus with redoubled blows, Where Typhon, press’d beneath the burning load, Still feels the fury of the avenging god.

 

But various Iris, Jove’s commands to bear, Speeds on the wings of winds through liquid air; In Priam’s porch the Trojan chiefs she found, The old consulting, and the youths around.

Polites’ shape, the monarch’s son, she chose, Who from AEsetes’ tomb observed the foes, [65]

High on the mound; from whence in prospect lay The fields, the tents, the navy, and the bay.

In this dissembled form, she hastes to bring The unwelcome message to the Phrygian king.

 

“Cease to consult, the time for action calls; War, horrid war, approaches to your walls!

Assembled armies oft have I beheld;

But ne’er till now such numbers charged a field: Thick as autumnal leaves or driving sand, The moving squadrons blacken all the strand.

Thou, godlike Hector! all thy force employ, Assemble all the united bands of Troy;

In just array let every leader call

The foreign troops: this day demands them all!”

 

The voice divine the mighty chief alarms; The council breaks, the warriors rush to arms.

The gates unfolding pour forth all their train, Nations on nations fill the dusky plain, Men, steeds, and chariots, shake the trembling ground: The tumult thickens, and the skies resound.

 

Amidst the plain, in sight of Ilion, stands A rising mount, the work of human hands; (This for Myrinne’s tomb the immortals know, Though call’d Bateia in the world below;) Beneath their chiefs in martial order here, The auxiliar troops and Trojan hosts appear.

 

The godlike Hector, high above the rest, Shakes his huge spear, and nods his plumy crest: In throngs around his native bands repair, And groves of lances glitter in the air.

 

Divine AEneas brings the Dardan race,

Anchises’ son, by Venus’ stolen embrace, Born in the shades of Ida’s secret grove; (A mortal mixing with the queen of love;) Archilochus and Acamas divide

The warrior’s toils, and combat by his side.

 

Who fair Zeleia’s wealthy valleys till, [66]

Fast by the foot of Ida’s sacred hill,

Or drink, AEsepus, of thy sable flood,

Were led by Pandarus, of royal blood;

To whom his art Apollo deign’d to show, Graced with the presents of his shafts and bow.

 

From rich Apaesus and Adrestia’s towers, High Teree’s summits, and Pityea’s bowers; From these the congregated troops obey

Young Amphius and Adrastus’ equal sway; Old Merops’ sons; whom, skill’d in fates to come, The sire forewarn’d, and prophesied their doom: Fate urged them on! the sire forewarn’d in vain, They rush’d to war, and perish’d on the plain.

 

From Practius’ stream, Percote’s pasture lands, And Sestos and Abydos’ neighbouring strands, From great Arisba’s walls and Selle’s coast, Asius Hyrtacides conducts his host:

High on his car he shakes the flowing reins, His fiery coursers thunder o’er the plains.

 

The fierce Pelasgi next, in war renown’d, March from Larissa’s ever-fertile ground: In equal arms their brother leaders shine, Hippothous bold, and Pyleus the divine.

 

Next Acamas and Pyrous lead their hosts, In dread array, from Thracia’s wintry coasts; Round the bleak realms where Hellespontus roars, And Boreas beats the hoarse-resounding shores.

 

With great Euphemus the Ciconians move, Sprung from Troezenian Ceus, loved by Jove.

 

Pyraechmes the Paeonian troops attend,

Skill’d in the fight their crooked bows to bend; From Axius’ ample bed he leads them on, Axius, that laves the distant Amydon,

Axius, that swells with all his neighbouring rills, And wide around the floating region fills.

 

The Paphlagonians Pylaemenes rules,

Where rich Henetia breeds her savage mules, Where Erythinus’ rising cliffs are seen, Thy groves of box, Cytorus! ever green, And where AEgialus and Cromna lie,

And lofty Sesamus invades the sky,

And where Parthenius, roll’d through banks of flowers, Reflects her bordering palaces and bowers.

 

Here march’d in arms the Halizonian band, Whom Odius and Epistrophus command,

From those far regions where the sun refines The ripening silver in Alybean mines.

 

There mighty Chromis led the Mysian train, And augur Ennomus, inspired in vain;

For stern Achilles lopp’d his sacred head, Roll’d down Scamander with the vulgar dead.

 

Phorcys and brave Ascanius here unite

The Ascanian Phrygians, eager for the fight.

 

Of those who round Maeonia’s realms reside, Or whom the vales in shades of Tmolus hide, Mestles and Antiphus the charge partake, Born on the banks of Gyges’ silent lake.

There, from the fields where wild Maeander flows, High Mycale, and Latmos’ shady brows,

And proud Miletus, came the Carian throngs, With mingled clamours and with barbarous tongues. [67]

Amphimachus and Naustes guide the train, Naustes the bold, Amphimachus the vain, Who, trick’d with gold, and glittering on his car, Rode like a woman to the field of war.

Fool that he was! by fierce Achilles slain, The river swept him to the briny main:

There whelm’d with waves the gaudy warrior lies The valiant victor seized the golden prize.

 

The forces last in fair array succeed,

Which blameless Glaucus and Sarpedon lead The warlike bands that distant Lycia yields, Where gulfy Xanthus foams along the fields.

 

BOOK III.

 

ARGUMENT.

 

THE DUEL OF MENELAUS AND PARIS.

 

The armies being ready to engage, a single combat is agreed upon between Menelaus and Paris (by the intervention of Hector) for the determination of the war. Iris is sent to call Helen to behold the fight. She leads her to the walls of Troy, where Priam sat with his counsellers observing the Grecian leaders on the plain below, to whom Helen gives an account of the chief of them. The kings on either part take the solemn oath for the conditions of the combat. The duel ensues; wherein Paris being overcome, he is snatched away in a cloud by Venus, and transported to his apartment. She then calls Helen from the walls, and brings the lovers together. Agamemnon, on the part of the Grecians, demands the restoration of Helen, and the performance of the articles.

 

The three-and-twentieth day still continues throughout this book. The scene is sometimes in the fields before Troy, and sometimes in Troy itself.

 

Thus by their leaders’ care each martial band Moves into ranks, and stretches o’er the land.

With shouts the Trojans, rushing from afar, Proclaim their motions, and provoke the war So when inclement winters vex the plain With piercing frosts, or thick-descending rain, To warmer seas the cranes embodied fly, [68]

With noise, and order, through the midway sky; To pigmy nations wounds and death they bring, And all the war descends upon the wing, But silent, breathing rage, resolved and skill’d [69]

By mutual aids to fix a doubtful field, Swift march the Greeks: the rapid dust around Darkening arises from the labour’d ground.

Thus from his flaggy wings when Notus sheds A night of vapours round the mountain heads, Swift-gliding mists the dusky fields invade, To thieves more grateful than the midnight shade; While scarce the swains their feeding flocks survey, Lost and confused amidst the thicken’d day: So wrapp’d in gathering dust, the Grecian train, A moving cloud, swept on, and hid the plain.

 

Now front to front the hostile armies stand, Eager of fight, and only wait command;

When, to the van, before the sons of fame Whom Troy sent forth, the beauteous Paris came: In form a god! the panther’s speckled hide Flow’d o’er his armour with an easy pride: His bended bow across his shoulders flung, His sword beside him negligently hung;

Two pointed spears he shook

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