Page images
PDF
EPUB

She rose, her snowy veil around her spread,
And tears of tenderness beneath it shed;
Then onward pass'd and sought the Scæan-gate,
Where sate the elders of the Trojan state;
Chiefs, who no more in bloody fights engage,
But wise through time, and narrative with age,
Like grasshoppers, that in the woods rejoice,
Or send from summer bowers their slender voice.
These, when the Spartan queen approach'd the
tower,

In secret own'd resistless beauty's power:
They cried, "No wonder such celestial charms
For nine long years have set the world in arms;
What winning graces! what majestic mien!
See moves a goddess, and she looks a queen!
Yet hence, oh heaven! convey that fatal face,
And from destruction save the Trojan race."
The good old Priam welcomed her and cried,
"Approach, my child, and grace thy father's side;
No crime of thine our present suffering draws,
Not thou, but heaven's disposing will, the cause.
The gods these armies and this force employ,
The hostile gods conspire the fate of Troy.
Now lift thine eyes, and say what Greek is he
(Far as from hence these aged eyes can see)
Around whose brow such martial graces shine,
So tall, so awful, and almost divine?

Though some of loftier stature tread the green,
None match his grandeur and exalted mien;
He seems a monarch, and his country's pride."
Thus ceased the king, and thus the fair replied:
"Before thy presence, father, I appear
With conscious shame, and reverential fear.
Ah, had I died, ere to these walls I fled,.
False to my country and my nuptial bed,
My brothers, friends, and daughter, left behind,
False to them all, to Paris only kind!
All, all alas! I left-hence ever flow
Tears that consume my soul with hopeless woe.
Yet hear what thou requir'st:—that form, that air,
Great Agamemnon, Atreus' son declare,
A king, a warrior, scarce surpass'd in fame;
Ah, once I knew him by a brother's name!"

With wonder Priam viewed the godlike man, Extolled the happy prince, and then began "O blest Atrides! born to prosperous fate, Successful monarch of a mighty state; How vast thy empire; of yon matchless train What numbers lost, what numbers yet remain !" This said; his eyes next on Ulysses light, "And who is he, inferior far in height, Yet ampler shoulder'd and of broader breast, Yon chief, whose arms on earth now peaceful rest?"

When Atreus' son harangued the listening train
Just was his sense, and his expression plain;
His words succinct, yet full; without a fault;
He spoke no more than just the thing he ought.
But when Ulysses rose, in thought profound,
His modest eyes he fixed upon the ground
As one unskilled or dumb, he seemed to stand;
Nor raised his head, nor stretched his sceptred
hand;

But when he gave his voice its force and flow,
Soft fell his words like flakes of feathery snow.
All felt his matchless power, all caught his
flame,

Nor paused to wonder at his outward frame."
Again hoar Priam spoke, the while his sight,
Rested on Ajax, towering in his height:
"Say who yon chief, conspicuous o'er the rest
For stateliness of size and breadth of breast?"
"Ajax the great," (the beauteous queen replied,)
Himself a host, the Grecian strength and pride.
And see, Idomeneus, by Crete ador'd,
And how the Cretans gather round their lord.
Great as a god! I've seen him oft before,
With Menelaus on the Spartan shore.
The rest I know and could in order name,
All valiant chiefs and men of mighty fame;
But where-oh, where 's equestrian Castor's
might,

Where Pollux, matchless in the cæstus-fight?
My brothers they; the same our native shore,
One house contained us, as one mother bore.
Perhaps the chiefs, from warlike toils at ease,
For distant Troy refused to sail the seas;
Perhaps their swords some nobler quarrel
draws,

Ashamed to combat in their sister's cause."
So spoke the Fair, nor knew her brothers' doom,
Wrapped in the cold embraces of the tomb,
Adorned with honours on their native shore,
Silent they slept, and heard of wars no more.

Book V.

JUNO'S COURSERS.

FAR as a shepherd from some point on high, O'er the wide main extends his boundless eye, Through such a space of air, with thundering sound,

At every leap the immortal coursers bound.

MINERVA ARMING HERSELF FOR BATTLE.* BUT the stern daughter of all-mighty Jove

Then Helen thus: "Whom your discerning eyes Cast off the veil her hand had finely wove,
Have singled out, is Ithacus the wise;
Mid Ithaca's bleak mountains born and bred,
Yet keen in counsel and of craftiest head."
Her wise Antenor answered: "Well my word
Bears witness of the truth from Helen heard.
When here their steps, for thee by Hellas' sent,
Brave Menelaus and Ulysses bent,

I knew their persons and admired their parts,
Both brave in arms, and both approved in arts.
Erect, the Spartan most engaged our view,
Ulysses, seated, greater reverence drew;

Whose spreading folds around her girdle flow'd
On the starr'd pavement of th' Olympian god.
Then, mail'd for ruthless battle, firmly brac'd
The corslet that the cloud-compeller grac'd.
The snake-fring'd Ægis round her shoulder drew,
Where Terror, wreath'd throughout, came forth
to view,

According to Eustathius, the ancient critics marked these verses (in the original) with an asterisk, to denote their beauty.

There Strife, there Fortitude, ne'er known to | His radiant arms preserved from hostile spoil,

yield, There merciless Pursuit, that wastes the field, And Jove's dire omen nameless horrors spread, Th' appalling monster, the Gorgonian headThen brac'd her casque, all gold, whose fourconed height

And laid him decent on the funeral pile.
Then raised a mountain, where his bones were
burn'd,

The mountain nymphs the rural tomb adorn'd,
Jove's sylvan daughters bade the elms bestow
A barren shade, and in his honour grow.

Spreads, o'er an hundred hosts, o'ershadowing By the same arm my seven brave brothers fell;

night.

Thus, in her terror mail'd, the goddess leapt

In her bright car, whence flame-wing'd lightnings swept,

In one sad day beheld the gates of heil:
While the fat herds and snowy flocks they fed,
Amid their fields the hapless heroes bled!
My mother lived to bear the victor's bands,

And grasp'd the spear, which, when her fury The queen of Hippoplacia's sylvan lands:

burns,

Redeem'd too late, she scarce beheld again

Proud tyrants humbles and whole hosts o'er- Her pleasing empire, and her native plain,

turns.

Book VI.

THE RACE OF MAN.

LIKE leaves on trees the Race of Man is found;
Now green in youth, now withering on the
ground:

Another race the following spring supplies;
They fall successive, and successive rise:

So generations in their course decay,

When ah! opprest by life-consuming woe,
She fell a victim to Diana's bow.
"Yet, while my Hector still survives, I see
My father, mother, brethren, all in thee:
Alas! my parents, brothers, kindred, all
Once more will perish, if my Hector fall.
Thy wife, thy infant, in thy danger share:
Oh prove a husband's and a father's care!
That quarter most the skilful Greeks annoy,
Where yon wild fig-trees join the walls of Troy:
Thou, from this tower, defend th' important post;
There Agamemnon points his dreadful host,

So flourish these, when those have pass'd away. That pass Tydides, Ajax, strive to gain,

GLAUCUS.

From Hippolochus I came,

The honour'd author of my birth and name;
By his decree I sought the Trojan town,
By his instructions learn to win renown,
To stand the first in worth as in command,
And add new honours to my native land,
Before mine eyes my mighty sires to place,
And emulate the glories of our race.*

THE PARTING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE.

"Too daring prince! ah, whither dost thou run?
Ah, too forgetful of thy wife and son!
And think'st thou not how wretched we shall be,
A widow I, an helpless orphan he?
For sure such courage length of life denies,
And thou must fall, thy virtue's sacrifice.
Greece in her single heroes strove in vain;
Now hosts oppose thee, and thou must be slain!
Oh, grant me, gods! ere Hector meets his doom,
All I can ask of heaven, an early tomb!
So shall my days in one sad tenor run,
And end with sorrows as they first begun.
No parent now remains my grief to share,
No father's aid, no mother's tender care.
The fierce Achilles wrapp'd our walls in fire,
Laid Thebe waste, and slew my warlike sire!
His fate compassion in the victor bred.
Stern as he was, he yet revered the dead,

• Ιππόλοχος δέ μ ̓ ἔτικτε, καὶ ἐκ τοῦ φημὶ γενέθαι·
Πέμπε δέ μ ̓ ἐσ Τρόιην, καὶ μοι μάλα πολλ ̓ ἐπέτελλεν,
Αιὲν ἀριστεύειν, καὶ ὑπείροχον ἔμμεναι άλλων
Μηδὲ γένος Πατέρων αἰσχυνέμεν· οἱ μέγ' άριστοι
Εντ ̓ Εφύρῃ ἐγενόντο καὶ ἐν Λυκίῃ εὐρεῖῃ·
Ταύτὴς του γενεῆς τε καὶ αίματος εὔχομαι εἶναι.

And there the vengeful Spartan fires his train.
Thrice our bold foes the fierce attack have given,
Or led by hopes, or dictated from heav'n.
Let others in the field their arms employ,
But stay my Hector here, and guard his Troy."

The chief replied: "That post shall be my care,
Nor that alone, but all the works of war.
How would the sons of Troy, in arms renown'd,
And Troy's proud dames, whose garments sweep
the ground,

Attaint the lustre of my former name,
Should Hector basely quit the field of fame?
My early youth was bred to martial pains,
My soul impels me to th' embattled plains:
Let me be foremost to defend the throne,
And guard my father's glories, and my own.
Yet come it will, the day decreed by fates:
(How my heart trembles, while my tongue re-

lates :)

The day when thou, imperial Troy! must bend,
And see thy warriors fall, thy glories end.
And yet no dire presage so wounds my mind,
My mother's death, the ruin of my kind,
Not Priam's hoary head defil'd with gore,
Not all my brothers gasping on the shore,
As thine, Andromache! thy griefs I dread;
I see thee trembling, weeping, captive led!
In Argive looms our battles to design,
And woes, of which so large a part was thine!
To bear the victor's hard commands, or bring
The weight of waters from Hyperia's spring.
There, while you groan beneath the load of
life,

They cry, Behold the mighty Hector's wife!
Some haughty Greek, who lives thy tears to see,
Embitters all thy woes, by naming me.
The thoughts of glory past, and present shame,
A thousand griefs, shall waken at the name!

May I lie cold before that dreadful day,
Prest with a heap of monumental clay!
Thy Hector, wrapt in everlasting sleep,
Shall neither hear thee sigh, nor see thee weep."
Thus having spoke, th' illustrious chief of Troy
Stretch'd his fond arms to clasp the lovely boy.
The babe clung crying to his nurse's breast,
Scar'd at the dazzling helm, and nodding crest.
With secret pleasure each fond parent smil'd,
And Hector hasted to relieve his child-
The glittering terrors from his brows unbound,
And placed the beaming helmet on the ground;
Then kiss'd the child, and, lifting high in air,
Thus to the gods preferred a father's prayer:
"O Thou! whose glory fills the ethereal throne,
And all ye deathless powers! protect my son.
Grant him, like me, to purchase just renown,
To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown;
Against his country's foes the war to wage,
And rise the Hector of a future age.
So, when triumphant from successful toils
Of heroes slain he bears the reeking spoils,
Whole hosts may hail him with deserved acclaim,
And say, this chief transcends his father's fame:
While pleased, amidst the general shouts of Troy,
His mother's conscious heart o'erflows with joy."
He spoke, and fondly gazing on her charms,
Restored the pleasing burden to her arms:
Soft on her fragrant breast the babe he laid,
Hush'd to repose, and with a smile survey'd.
The troubled pleasure soon chastis'd by fear,
She mingled with the smile a tender tear.
The soften'd chief with kind compassion view'd,
And dried the falling drops, and thus pursued:
"Andromache! my soul's far better part!
Why with untimely sorrow heaves thy heart?
No hostile hand can antedate my doom,
Till fate condemns me to the silent tomb:
Fix'd is the term to all the race of earth;
And such the hard condition of our birth,
No force can then resist, no flight can save;
All sink alike, the fearful and the brave.
No more but hasten to thy tasks at home;
There guide the spindle, and direct the loom.
Me glory summons to the martial scene,
The field of combat is the sphere for men;
Where heroes war, the foremost place I claim,
The first in danger, as the first in fame."

Thus having said, the glorious chief resumes
His towery helmet, black with shading plumes.
His princess parts with a prophetic sigh,
Unwilling parts, and oft reverts her eye,
That stream'd at every look: then, moving slow,
Sought her own palace, and indulged her woe.
There, while her tears deplored the godlike man,
Through all her train the soft infection ran;
The pious maids their mingled sorrows shed,
And mourn'd the living Hector, as the dead.

To Neptune, ruler of the seas profound,
Whose liquid arms the mighty globe surround,
They pour forth vows their embassy to bless,
| And calm the rage of stern Æacides.
And now arriv'd, where, on the sandy bay,
The Myrmidonian tents and vessels lay;
Amus'd, at ease, the godlike man they found,
Pleas'd with the solemn harp's harmonious sound.
With this he soothes his angry soul, and sings
The immortal deeds of heroes and of kings.
Patroclus only of the royal train,

Placed in his tent, attends the lofty strain.
Full opposite he sat, and listen'd long,
In silence waiting till he ceased the song.
Unseen the Grecian embassy proceeds
To his high tent; the great Ulysses leads.
Achilles starting, as the chiefs he spied,
Leap'd from his seat, and laid his harp aside.
With like surprise arose Menœtius' son:
Pelides grasp'd their hands, and thus begun.

HOSPITALITY OF ACHILLES-PATRIARCHAL

MANNERS.

HE spake nor him Patroclus disobeyedThen, nigh the fire, his lord a basket laid; There cast a goat's and sheep's extended chine, And the huge carcase of a fatted swine, Served by Automedon, with dextrous art: Achilles' self divided part from part.

Fixed on the spits the flesh, where brightly blaz'd

The fire's pure splendour, by Patroclus rais'd.
Patroclus next, when sank the flame, subdued,
O'er the raked embers placed the spitted food;
Then rais'd it from the props-then, salted o'er,
And duly roasted, to the dresser bore:
Next to each guest, along the table spread,
In beauteous baskets, the allotted bread:
Achilles' self distributed the meat,
And placed against his own Ulysses' seat.
And now Patroclus, at his lord's desire,
The hallowed offering cast amid the fire:
The guests ther feasted, and, the banquet o'er,
When satiate thirst and hunger claim'd no more,
Ulysses mindful, crown'd his cup with wine,
And to Achilles drank.

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small]

ACHILLES! bid thy mighty spirit down: Thou shouldst not be thus merciless; the gods, Although more honourable, and in power EMBASSY OF PHOENIX, AJAX, AND ULISSES TO THE And virtue thy superiors, are themselves

Book IX.

TENT OF ACHILLES.

Yet placable; and, if a mortal man

THROUGH the still night they march, and hear Offend them by transgression of their laws,

the roar

Of murmuring billows on the sounding shore.

Libation, incense, sacrifice and prayer,
In meekness offered, turn their wrath away.

Prayers are Jove's daughters, wrinkled, lame, slant-eyed,

Which, though far distant, yet with constant pace,
Follow offence. Offence, robust of limb,
And treading firm the ground, outstrips them all,
And over all the earth before them runs,
Hurtful to man. They following, heal the hurt;
Received respectfully when they approach,
They yield us aid, and listen when we pray.
But if we slight, and with obdurate heart
Resist them, to Saturnian Jove they cry
Against us; supplicating that offence
May cleave to us for vengeance of the wrong.
Thou, therefore, O Achilles! honour yield
To Jove's own daughters, vanquish'd as the brave
Have often been, by honour done to thee.

[blocks in formation]

crest,

Coiled round the eagle's neck, and tore his breast. The bird, in anguish of that piercing wound, Mid the throng'd army cast him on the ground; Spread her broad wings, and, floating on the wind, Shriek'd as she flew, and left her prey behind : While, where the serpent lay, with fear amaz'd, On Jove's portentous sign the Trojans gaz'd.

Then spake Polydamas: "Full oft my word, Though just, brave Hector, has thy blame incurr'd; Yet both in war and council, still the aim, That best becomes each citizen,-thy fame. Hence will I freely speak: here, Hector, stay, Nor lead against the fleet our arm'd array. For sure to warn us is that omen sent, And thus my mind expounds the dread event. When on our battle's left, each host between, The eagle and that snake, distinctly seen, Which, yet alive, on earth she downward flung, Nor to her aerie brought, to feast her young: Thus we-if forc'd each gate, if prone each tow'r, And Greece, dishearten'd, dread to front our

power

Ne'er from that fleet, in orderly array,
Shall back return on our triumphant way;
But, in her fleet's defence, by Græcia slain,
There many a Trojan son shall strew the plain.
Slight not my word-I speak as speaks the seer,
Whom gods have gifted, and mankind revere."

[merged small][ocr errors][merged small]

He spake and onward rush'd: Troy's dense array

Pursued, loud clamouring, where he led the way: From Ida's topmost brow the Thunderer, Jove, O'er all the fleet thick dust in whirlwinds drove, Quell'd in the Greeks the spirit of the brave, And added fame to Troy and Hector gave.

SARPEDON.

THUS godlike Hector and his troops contend To force the ramparts, and the gates to rend; Nor Troy could conquer, nor the Greeks would yield,

Till great Sarpedon tower'd amid the field;
For mighty Jove inspired with martial flame
His matchless son, and urged him on to fame.
In arms he shines, conspicuous from afar,
And bears aloft his ample shield in air;
Within whose orb, the thick bull-hides were
roll'd,

Ponderous with brass, and bound with ductile gold:

And while two pointed javelins arm his hands,
Majestic moves along, and leads his Lycian bands.
So, press'd with hunger, from the mountain's
brow

Descends a lion on the flocks below;
So stalks the lordly savage o'er the plain,
In sullen majesty, and stern disdain:
In vain loud mastiffs bay him from afar,
And shepherds gall him with an iron war;
Regardless, furious, he pursues his way;
He foams, he roars, he rends the panting prey.
Resolved alike, divine Sarpedon glows
With generous rage that drives him on the foes.
He views the towers, and meditates their fall,
To sure destruction dooms th` aspiring wall:
Then, casting on his friend an ardent look,
Fired with the thirst of glory, thus he spoke:

Why boast we, Glaucus! our extended reign, Where Xanthus' streams enrich the Lycian plain, Our numerous herds that range the fruitful field, And hills were vines their purple harvest yield,

* Εἷς οἰωνὸς ἄριστος ἀμύνεσθαί περι πάτρης, which Mr. Pope thus translates:

"Without a sign his sword the brave man draws, And asks no omen but his country's cause."

Our foaming bowls with purer nectar crown'd,
Our feasts enhanced with music's sprightly

sound!

Why on those shores are we with joy survey'd,
Admired as heroes, and as gods obey'd,
Unless great acts superior merit prove,

And vindicate the bounteous powers above?
"Tis ours, the dignity they give to grace;
The first in valour, as the first in place:
That when with wondering eyes our martial
bands

Behold our deeds transcending our commands,

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:
The Greeks behold, they tremble, and they fly;
The shore is heap'd with dead, and tumult rends
the sky.

Book XIII.

NEPTUNE HASTENING TO THE RELIEF OF THE
GREEKS.

treads,

Rocks, mountains, forests, bow their conscious heads;

Such, they may cry, deserve the sovereign state, Dowx sweeps the god; and trembling, where he
Whom those that envy, dare not imitate!
Could all our care elude the gloomy grave,
Which claims no less the fearful than the brave,
For lust of fame I should not vainly dare
In fighting fields, nor urge thy soul to war:—
But since, alas! ignoble age must come,
Disease, and death's inexorable doom;
The life which others pay, let us bestow,
And give to fame what we to nature owe;
Brave though we fall, and honour'd if we live,
Or let us glory gain, or glory give!

DEEDS OF HECTOR.

O'er isle, o'er sea, at three vast strides he wends,
And, with the fourth, on Æga's shore descends,—
His goal;-where bright, nor built by mortal
hands,

Deep midst the waves, his ocean-palace stands;-
There, brazen-hoof'd, gold-maned, to their fleet car
His steeds he yokes, and arms himself for war,
Grasps the bright scourge, and forth, in gold array,
Swift, through the onward billows, shoots his
way;

As when two scales are charged with doubt-Up from their caves the whales exulting spring,

ful loads,

From side to side the trembling balance nods
(While some laborious matron, just and poor,
With nice exactness weighs her woolly store,)
Till, poised aloft, the resting beam suspends
Each equal weight; nor this, nor that descends:
So stood the war, till Hector's matchless might
With fates prevailing, turn'd the scale of fight.
Fierce as a whirlwind up the wall he flies,
And fires his host with loud repeated cries:
Advance, ye Trojans! lend your valiant hands,
Haste to the fleet, and toss the blazing brands.
They hear, they run; and, gathering at his call,
Raise scaling engines, and ascend the wall:
Around the works a wood of glittering spears
Shoots up, and all the rising host appears.
A ponderous stone bold Hector heaved to throw,
Pointed above, and rough and gross below:
Not two strong men the enormous weight could

raise,

Such men as live in these degenerate days.
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
The unwieldy rock, the labour of a god.
Thus arm'd, before the folded gates he came,
Of massy substance, and stupendous frame;
With iron bars and brazen hinges strong,
On lofty beams of solid timber hung:

Sport round his track, and hail their ocean-king;
Subsiding seas a leveller space supply,
And waves, disparting, leave his axle dry.

[blocks in formation]

ACHILLES SHOWING HIMSELF AT THE HEAD OF
THE ENTRENCHMENTS.

Forth marched the chief, and, distant from the
crowd,

Then, thundering through the planks with force- High on the rampart rais'd his voice aloud;

ful sway,
Drives the sharp rock; the solid beams give way,
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 shakes two shining spears:
A dreadful gleam from his bright armour came,
And from his eye-balls flash'd a living flame.

* This description of the Sea-God has been quoted by Longinus as a specimen of the sublime; but how infinitely inferior is it (as Dr. Smith has truly observed) to a thousand passages in Scripture, descriptive of the divine presence. See the Book of Job and Psalms-particularly Psalm xviii. 7-10; and lxxvii. 16-19, &c. See also, Milton's description of the Messiah, b. vi. 772 and 781, and Satan, b. i. 590, &c.

« PreviousContinue »