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A soul, resolv'd to pass the gloom of night,
And 'midst her legion search the powers of Troy."
"O prince," he cries," in this disastrous hour
Greece all our counsel claims, now, now demands
Our deepest cares! the power omnipotent
Frowns on our arms, but smiles with aspect mild
On Hector's incense: Heavens! what son of Fame,
Renown'd in story, e'er such deeds achiev'd
In a whole life, as in one glorious day
This favourite of the skies? and yet a man!
A mortal! born to die! but such his deeds
As future Grecians shall repeat with tears
To children yet unborn.-But haste, repair
To Ajax and Idomeneus: we wake
Ourself the Pylian sage, to keep the guards
On duty, by his care; for o'er the guards
His son presides nocturnal, and in arms
His great compeer, Meriones the bold."

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But say." rejoins the prince," these orders borne, There shall I stay, or measuring back the shores, To thee return?' "No more return," replies The king of hosts, "lest treading different ways We meet no more; for through the camp the ways Lie intricate and various: but aloud Wake every Greek to martial fame and arms; Teach them to emulate their godlike sires; And thou awhile forget thy royal birth, And share a soldier's cares: the proudest king Is but exalted dust; and when great Jove Call'd us to life, and gave us royal power, He gave a sad preeminence of woes."

He spoke, and to the tent of Nestor turns
His step majestic: on his couch he found
The hoary warrior; all around him lay

His arms, the shield, the spears, the radiant helm,
And scarf of various dye: with these array'd,
The reverend father to the field of Fame
Led his bold files; for, with a brave disdain,
Old as he was, he scorn'd the ease of age.
Sudden the monarch starts, and half uprais'd,
Thus to the king aloud: "What art thou, say
Why in the camp alone? while others sleep,
Why wanderest thou obscure the midnight hours?
Seekst thou some centinel, or absent friend?
Speak instant!-Silent to advance, is death!"
"O pride of Greece," the plaintive king returns,
"Here in thy tent thou Agamemnon view'st,
A prince, the most unhappy of mankind;
Woes I endure, which none but kings can feel,
Which ne'er will cease until forgot in death
Pensive I wander through the damp of night,
Through the cold damp of night; distress'd; alone!
And sleep is grown a stranger to my eyes:
The weight of all the war, the load of woes
That presses every Greek, united falls
On methe cares of all the host are mine!
Grief discomposes, and distracts my thoughts;
My restless panting heart, as if it strove
To force its prison, beats against my sides!
My strength is fail'd, and even my fect refuse
To bear so great a load of wretchedness

"But if thy wakeful cares (for o'er thy head
Wakeful the hours glide on) have aught matur'd
Useful, the thought unfold: but rise, my friend,
Visit with me the watches of the night;
Jest tir'd they sleep, while Troy with all her war
Hangs o'er our tents, and now, perhaps ev'n now
Arms her proud bands. Arise, my friend, arise!"

To whom the Pylian: "Think not, mighty king, Jove ratifies vain Hector's haughty views; A sudden, sad reverse of mighty woes Waits that audacious victor, when in arms Dreadful Achilles shines. But now thy steps Nestor attends. Be it our care to wake Sage Ithacus, and Diomed the brave, Meges the bold, and in the race renown'd Oïlean Ajax. To the ships that guard Outmost the camp, some other speed his way To raise stern Ajax and the Cretan king. But love, nor reverence to the mighty name Of Menelaus, nor thy wrath, O king, Shall stop my free rebuke: sleep is a crime When Agamemnon wakes; on him it lies To share thy martial toils, to court the peers To act the men: this hour claims all our cares."

"Reserve," rejoins the king, "for future hours Thy generous anger. Seems the royal youth Remiss? 'tis not through indolence of soul, But deference to our power; for our commands He waits, and follows when we lead the way. This night, disdaining rest, his steps he bent To our pavilion: now th' illustrious peers, Rais'd at his call, a chosen synod stand Before the gates: haste, Nestor, haste away."

To whom the sage well pleas'd: "In such bravé No Greek will envy power: with loyal joy [hands Subjects obey, when men of worth command."

He added not, but o'er his manly breast
Flung a rich robe: beneath his royal feet
The glittering sandals shone: a soft, large vest,
Florid with purple wool, his aged limbs
Graceful adorn'd: tipt with a star of brass
A ponderous lance he grasp'd, and strode away
To wake sage Ithacus. Aloud his voice

He rais'd: his voice was heard, and from his tent
Instant Ulysses sprung; and, "Why," he cry'd,
"Why thus abroad in the chill hours of night?
What new distress invades ?"--"Forgive my cares,"
Reply'd the hoary sage; "for Greece I wake,
Greece and her dangers bring me to thy tent:
But haste, our wakeful peers in council meet;
This, this one night determines flight or war."

Swift at the word he seiz'd his ample shield,
And strode along; and now they bend their way
To wake the brave Tydides: him they found
Stretch'd on the earth, array'd in shining arms,
And round, his brave companions of the war:"
Their shields sustain'd their heads; erect their spears
Shot through th' illumin'd air a streaming ray,
Keen as Jove's lightning wing'd athwart the skies.
Thus slept the chief: beneath him on the ground
A savage bull's black hide was roll'd; his head
A splendid carpet bore. The slumbering king
The Pylian gently with these words awakes:

"Rise, son of Tydeus ill, a whole night's rest Suits with the brave! and sleep'st thou, while proud Troy

Hangs o'er our tents, and from yon joining hill
Prepares her war? Awake, my friend, awake!"

Sudden the chief awoke, and milly gave
This soft reply: "Oh! cruel to thy age,
Thou good old man! ne'er wilt thout, wilt thou cease
To burthen age with cares? Has Greece no youths
To wake the peers? unweary'd man, to hear
At once the double load of toils, and years!"

""Tis true," he cry'd, "my subjects and my sons Might ease a sire and king: but rest's a crime When on the edge of fate our country stands : Ere yet a few hours more have run their course, Important space! Greece triumphis, or Greece falls! But, since an old man's cares thy pity moves, Haste, generous youth, with speed to council call Meges the brave, and in the race renown'd Oilean Ajax."-Strait the chief obey'd, Strait o'er his shoulders flung the shaggy spoils Of a huge tawny lion; with dire grace Down to his feet they hung: fierce in his hand He grasp'd a glittering spear, and join'd the guards. Wakeful in arms they sate, a faithful band, As watchful dogs protect the fleecy train, When the stern lion, furious for his prey, Rushes through crashing woods, and on the fold Springs from some mountain's brow, while mingled Of men and hounds alarm: to every sound [cries Faithful they turn: so through the gloom of night They cast their view, and caught each noise of Troy.

Now met th' illustrious synod; down they sate, Down on a spot of ground unstain'd with blood, Where vengeful Hector from the slaughter stay'd His murderous arm, when the dark veil of night Sabled the pole: to whom thus Nestor spoke :

"Lives there a son of Fame so nobly brave, That Troy-ward dares to trace the dangerous way, To seize some straggling foe or learn what Troy Now meditates? to pour the flood of war Fierce on our fleet, or back within her walls Lead her proud legions? Oh! what fame would crown The hero thus triumphant, prais'd o'er Earth Above the sons of men! And what rewards Should he receive! From every grateful peer A sable ewe, and lamb, of highest worth Memorial; to a brave, heroic heart The noblest prize! and at the social feast Amongst the great, be his the seat of Fame." Abash'd they sate, and ev'n the brave knew fear, Not so Tydides: unappall'd he rose, And nobly spoke! "My soul! Oh! reverend sage, Fires at the bold design; through yon black host Venturous I bend my way; but, if his aid Some warrior lend, my courage might arise To nobler heights: the wise by mutual aid Instruct the wise, and brave men fire the brave."

Fierce at the word upstarted from the ground The stern Ajaces, fierce bold Merion rose, And Thrasymedes, sons of War: nor sate The royal Spartan, nor great Nestor's heir, Nor greater Ithacus; his manly heart Swell'd at the view of fame.-Elate with joy Atrides saw; and, "Oh! thou best of friends, Brave Diomed," he cries, "of all the peers Chuse thou the valiantest: when merit pleads, Titles no deference claim; high birth and state To valour yield, and worth is more than power." Thus, fearing for his brother, spoke the king, Not long for Diomed dispels his fears.

"Since free my choice, can I forget a friend, The man, for wisdom's various arts renown'd; The man, whose dauntless soul no toils dismay, Ulysses, lov'd by Pallas? through his aid, Though thousand fires oppose, a thousand fires Oppose in vain; his wisdoin points the way."

"Nor praise, nor blame," the hero strait replies; "You speak to Greeks, and they Ulysses know:

But haste; swift roll the hours of night, the morn
Already hastens to display her beams,
And in the vault of Heaven the stars decay."

Swift at the word they sheathe their manly limbs
Horrid in arms: a two-edg'd sword and shield
Nestor's bold son to stern Tydides gave;
A tough bull's hide his ample helmet form'd,
No cone adorn'd it, and no plumy crest
Wav'd in the air: a quiver and a bow,
And a huge faulchion, great Ulysses bears,
The gift of Merion: on his head an helm
Of leather nodded, firm within, and bound
With many a thong; without, in dreadful rows
The snowy tusks of a huge savage boar
Grinn'd horrible. Thus arm'd, away they stalk
Undaunted: o'er their heads the martial maid
Sends on the right an her'n; the ambient gloom
Conceals him from the view, but loud in air
They hear the clangor of his sounding wings.
Joyful the prosperous sign Ulysses hail'd.
And thus to Pallas: "Offspring of dread Jove,
Who hurls the burning bolts! O guardian power,
Present in all my toils, who view'st my way
Where'er I move, now thy celestial aid,.
Now, goddess, lend! may deeds this night adorn
Deeds that all Troy may weep: may we return
In safety by thy guidance, heavenly maid !"

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Tydides caught the word; and, "Oh!" he cries, Virgin armipotent, now grant thy aid, As to my sire! He by the gulphy flood Of deep Esopus left th' embattled bands Of Greece in arms, and to imperial Thebes Bore terms of peace; but, as from haughty Thebes Alone he journey'd, deeds, heroic deeds, His arm achiev'd, for Tydeus was thy care: Thus guard his offspring, Oh! stern queen of arms So shall an heifer on thy altars bleed, Young and untam'd; to thee her blood I pour, And point her lunar horns with burnish'd gold."

Thus pray the chiefs, and Pallas hears their prayer Then, like two lions through the shades of night, Dauntless they stride along; and hold their way Through blood, and mangled limbs, o'er arms and "Nor pass they far, e'er the sagacious eye [death. Of Ithacus discerns a distant foe

Coasting from Froy, and thus to Diomed:

"See! o'er the plain some Trojan bends this way, Perhaps to spoil the slain or to our host Comes he a spy? Beyond us o'er the field 'Tis best he pass, then sudden from behind Rush we precipitant; but if in flight His active feet prevail, thy spear employ To force him on our lines, lest hid in shades, Through the dusk air he re-escape to Troy."

Then couching to the ground, ambush'd they lay, Behind a hill of slain, onward the spy Incessant mov'd: he pass'd, and now arose The fierce pursuers. Dolon heard the sound Of trampling feet, and panting, listening stood; Now reach'd the chiefs within a javelin's throw, Stern foes of Dolon! swift along the shores He wing'd his flight, and swift along the shores They still pursued as when two skilful hounds Chase o'er the lawn the hare or bounding roe, Still from the sheltering brake the game they tur Stretch every nerve, and bear upon the prey!

& V. 339.

Bo ran the chiefs, and from the host of Troy
Turn'd the swift foe: now nigh the fleet they flew,
Now almost mingled with the guards; when lo!
The martial goddess breath'd heroic flames
Fierce on Tydides' soul: the hero fear'd
Lest some bold Greek should interpose a wound,
And ravish half the glories of the night.
Furious he shookhis lance, and, "Stand," he cry'd,
"Stand, or thou dy'st :" then sternly from his arm
Launch'd the wild spear; wilful the javelin err'd,
But whizzing o'er his shoulder, deep in earth
Stood quivering; and he quaking stopp'd aghast;
His teeth all chatter'd, and his slack knees knock'd;
He seem'd the bloodless image of pale Fear.
Panting the spy they seize; who thus with tears
Abject entreats: "Spare me, oh! spare," he cries;
"My hoary sire your mercy shall repay,
Soon as he hears I draw the vital air,

Venturous you bend to search the host of Troy,
There in yon outmost lines, a recent aid,
The Thracians lie, by Rhesus led, whose steeds
Outshine the snow, outfly the winged winds.
With glittering silver plates, and radiant gold
His chariot flames; gold forms his dazzling arms,
Arms that may grace a god!--but to your tents
Unhappy me convey; or bound with chains,
Fast bound with cruel chains, sad on the shores
Here leave me captive, till you safe return,
And witness to the truth my tongue unfolds,"
To whom stern-frowning Diomed replies:
"Though every syllable be stamp'd with truth,
Dolon, thou dy'st: would'st thou once more return
Darkling a spy, or wage, a nobler foe,

New war on Greece? Traitor, thou dy'st; nor more
New war thou wagest, nor return'st a spy."

He spoke terrific: and as Dolon rais'd

With ample wealth, with steel, with brass, with gold." Suppliant his humble hands, the trenchant blade

To whom Ulysses artfully: "Be bold : Far hence the thought of death! but instant say Why thus alone in the still hours of night While every eye is clos'd? to spoil the slain Com'st thou rapacious? or some nightly spy By Hector sent? or has thy venturous mind Impell'd thee to explore our martial bands ?"

"By Hector sent, and by rewards undone,"
Returns the spy, (still as he spoke he shook)
"I come unwilling: the refulgent car
He promis'd, and immortal steeds that bear
To fight the great Achilles: thus betray'd,
Through the dun shades of night I bend my way
Unprosperous, to explore the tented host

Of adverse Greece, and learn if now they stand
Wakeful on guard, or, vanquish'd by our arms,
Precipitant desert the shores of Troy."

To whom with smiles of scorn the sage returns:
"Bold were thy aims, O youth! But those proud
Restive, disdain the use of vulgar hands; [steeds,
Scarce ev'n the goddess-born, when the loud din
Of battle roars, subdues them to the rein
Reluctant: But this night where Hector sleeps
Faithful disclose: Where stand the warrior's steeds?
Where lie his arms and implements of war?
What guards are kept nocturnal? Say, what Troy
Now meditates? to pour the tide of fight
Fierce on our fleet, or back within her walls
Transfer the war?""To these demands," he cries,
"Faithful my tongue shall speak: The peers of Troy
Hector in council meets: round Ilus' tomb
Apart from noise they stand: no guards surround
The spacious host: where through the gloom yon


Blaze frequent, Trojans wake to guard their Troy;
Secure th' auxiliars sleep, no tender cares
Of wife or son disturb their calm repose,
Safe sleep their wives and sons on foreign shores."
"But say, apart encamp th' auxiliar bands,"
Replies the sage, 66 or join the powers of Troy?"

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Sheer through his neck descends; the furious blow Cleaves the tough nerves in twain; down drops the And mutters unintelligible sounds.

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Strait they despoil the dead: the wolf's grey hide
They seize, the helm, the spear, and battle-bow:
These, as they dropp'd with gore, on high in air
Ulysses rais'd, and to the martial maid
Thus lowly consecrates: Stern power of war,
Virgin armipotent, receive these arms,
Propitious to my vows, thee, goddess, thee
Chiefly I call: direct our prosperous way
To pierce the Thracian tents, to seize the steeds
Of Rhesus, and the car that flames with gold."

Then fierce o'er broken arms, through streams

of blood

They move along: now reach the Thracian bands
All hush'd in sleep profound; their shining arms,
Rang'd in three ranks along the plain, around
Illumin'd the dun air: chariot and horse

By every Thracian stood: Rhesus their king
Slept in the centre of the circling bands,
And his proud steeds were rein'd behind his car.
With joy Ulysses through the gloom descry'd
The sleeping king; and, "Lo!" he cries," the steeds,
Lo! Diomed, the chief of Thrace, this night
Describ'd by Dolon: now, oh! now thy strength
Dauntless exert! loose thou the furious steeds;
Or while the steeds I loose, with slaughtering hands
The queen of arms inflam'd Tydides' soul
Invade the soldiery." He spoke, and now
With all her martial fires: his reeking blade
On every side dealt fate; low, hollow groans.
Well'd from the slain. As in his nightly haunts
Murmur'd around, blood o'er the crimson field
Of sheep, or goat, and rends th' unguarded prey;
The surly lion rushes on the fold
So he the Thracian bands. Twelve by his sword
Lay breathless on the ground: behind him stood
Sage Ithacus, and, as the warrior slew,

Swift he remov'd the slain, lest the fierce steeds,
Not yet inur'd to blood, should trembling start,
Impatient of the dead. Now o'er the king
He whirls his wrathful blade, now furious gores
His heaving chest: he wak'd not; but a dream
By Pallas sent, rose in his anxious thoughts;
A visionary warrior frowning stood
Fast by his head, and his aürial sword
Plung'd through his labouring breast. Mean while

the steeds

The sage unbinds, and instant with his bow


Drives through the sleeping ranks: then to his | Beside what fountain, in what breezy bower,
Gave signals of retreat; but nobler deeds [friend Reclines my charmer in the noon-tide hour!
He meditates, to drag the radiant car,
Or lift it through the threefold ranks, up-born
High on his shoulders, or with slaughter stain
Th' ensangui. 'd field; when, lo! the martial maid
Down rushes from the battlements of Heaven,
And sudden cries, Return, brave chief, return,
Lest from the skies some guardian power of Troy
Wrathful descend, and rouse the hostile bands."

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Thus speaks the warrior queen: the heavenly
Tydides owns, and mounts the fiery steeds, [voice
Observant of the high command; the bow
Sage Ithacus apply'd, and tow'rd the tents [plain.
Scourg'd the proud steeds, the steeds flew o'er the

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Soft, I adjure you, by the skipping fawns,
By the fleet roes, that bound along the lawns;
Soft tread, ye virgin daughters of the grove,
Nor with your dances wake my sleeping love!


Return, O virgin! and if proud disdain
Arm thy fierce soul, return, enjoy my pain:
Thick rise, ye sighs: in floods descend, ye
If pleas'd thou view'st a faithful lover's cares,



Return, O virgin! while in verdant meads
By springs we sport, or dream on flowery beds!
She weary wanders through the desert way,
The food of wolves, or hungry lions' prey.


Ah! shield her, Heaven! your rage, ye beasts, for-
Those are not limbs for savages to tear! [bear
Adieu, ye meads! with her through wilds I go
O'er burning sands, or everlasting snow;
With her I wander through the desert way,
The food of wolves, or hungry lions' prey.


Come, Rosalind, before the wintry clouds
Frown o'er th' aërial vault, and rush in floods;
Ere raging storms howl o'er the frozen plains;
Thy charms may suffer by the storms or rains.


Come, Rosalind, O come; then infant flowers
Shall bloom and smile, and form their charins by
By you, the lily shall her white compose; [yours:
Your blush shall add new blushes to the rose;
Each flowery mead, and every tree shall bud,
And fuller honours clothe the youthful wood.


Yet, ah! forbear to urge thy homeward way,
While sultry suns infest the glowing day:
The sultry suns thy beauties may impair!-
Yet haste away! for thou art now too fair.


Hark! from yon bower what airs soft-warbled play!
My soul takes wing to meet th' enchanting lay:
Silence, ye nightingales! attend the voice!
While thus it warbles, all your songs are noise.


See! from the bower a form majestic moves,
And, smoothly gliding, shines along the groves;
Say, comes a goddess from the golden spheres?
A goddess comes, or Rosalind appears!


Shine forth, thou Sun, bright ruler of the day;
And where she treads, ve flowers, adorn the way!
Rejoice, ye groves; my heart, dismiss thy cares?
My goddess comes, my Rosalind appears!


'TWAS sung of old how one Amphion
Could by his verses tame a liou,
And, by his strange enchanting tunes,
Make bears or wolves dance rigadoons:
His songs could call the timber down,
And form it into house or town;

But it is plain, that in these times
No house is rais'd by poets' rhymes;
They for themselves can only rear
A few wild castles in the air;
Poor are the brethren of the bays,

Down from high strains, to ekes and ayes.
The Muses too are virgins yet,
And may be-till they portions get.

Yet still the doating rhymer dreams,
And sings of Helicon's bright streams;
But Helicon, for all his clatter,
Yields only uninspiring water;
Yet ev❜n athirst he sweetly sings'
Of Nectar, and Elysian springs.

What dire malignant planet sheds,
Ye bards, his influence on your heads?
Lawyers by endless controversies,
Consume unthinking clients' purses,

As Pharaoh's kine, which strange and odd is,
Devour'd the plump and well fed bodies.

The grave physician, who by physic,
Like Death, dispatches him that is sick,
Pursues a sure and thriving trade;
Though patients die, the doctor's paid:
Licens'd to kill, he gains a palace,
For what another mounts the gallows.

In shady groves the Muses stray,
And love in flowery meads to play;
An idle crew! whose only trade is
To shine in trifles, like our ladies;
In dressing, dancing, toying, singing,
While wiser Pallas thrives by spinning:
Thus they gain nothing to bequeath
Their votaries, but a laurel wreath.

But love rewards the bard! the fair
Attend his song, and ease his care:
Alas! fond youth, your plea you urge ill
Without a jointure, though a Virgil:
Could you like Phoebus sing, in vain
You nobly swell the lofty strain;
Coy Daphne filies, and you will find as
Hard hearts as hers in your Belindas.

But then some say you purchase fame,
And gain that envy'd prize, a name;
Great recompence! like his who sells
A diamond, for beads and bells.
Will Fame be thought sufficient bail
To keep the poet from the jail?

Thus the brave soldier, in the wars,
Gets empty praise, and aching scars;
Is paid with fame and wooden legs;
And, starv'd, the glorious vagrant begs.



IT is a pleasing direful sight!
At once you charm us, and affright!
So Heaven destroying angels arms
With terrour, dreadful in their charms!

Such, such was Cleopatra's air,
Lovely, but formidably fair,

When the griev'd world empoverish'd lost, By the dire asp, its noblest boast.

Aw'd by your guardian's dangerous power,
At distance trembling we adore;
At distance once again behold

A serpent guard the blooming gold.

Well pleas'd, and harmless, lo! he lies, Basks in the sunshine of your eyes; Now twists his spires, and now unfurls The gay confusion of his curls.

Oh! happy on your breast to lie, As that bright star' that gilds the sky, Who, ceasing in the spheres to shine, Would, for your breast, his Heaven resign.

Yet, oh! fair virgin, caution take, Lest some bold cheat assume the snake. When Jove comprest the Grecian dame, Aloof he threw the lightning's flame; On radiant spires the lover rode, And in the snake conceal'd the god.


TO A LADY OF THIRTY. No more let youth its beauty boast, -n at thirty reigns a toast, And, like the Sun as he declines, More mildly, but more sweetly shines. The hand of Time alone disarms Her face of its superfluous charms : But adds, for every grace resign'd, A thousand to adorn her mind.. Youth was her too inflaming time; This, her more habitable clime: How must she then each heart engage, Who blooms like youth, is wise like age! Thus the rich orange-trees produce At once both ornament, and use: Here opening blossoms we behold, There fragrant orbs of ripen'd gold.



BEING THREE YEARS OLD, MARCH 22, 1710-11. AWAKE, Sweet babe! the Sun's emerging ray,

That gave you birth, renews the happy day! Calmly serene, and glorious to the view,

He marches forth, and strives to look like you.


Why, lovely babe, does slumber seal your eyes? Sce, fair Aurora blushes in the skies! The Sun, which gave you birth, in bright array Begins his course, and ushers in the day. Calmly serene, and glorious to the view, He marches forth, and strives to look like you.

Fair beauty's bud! when Time shall stretch thy Confirm thy charms, and ripen thee to man, [span, How shall each swain, each beauteous nymph com For love each nymph, for envy every swain! [plain, What matchless charms shall thy full noon adorn, When so admir'd, so glorious, is thy morn!

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