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Long had he lived the scorn of every Greek,
Vext when he spoke, yet still they heard him speak
Sharp was his voice; which, in the shrillest tone
Thus with injurious taunts attack'd the throne:
Amidst the glories of so bright a reign,
What moves the great Atrides to complain?
'Tis thine whate'er the warrior's breast inflames,

210 The golden spoil, and thine the lovely dames.
With all the wealth our wars and blood bestow
Thy tents are crowded, and thy chests o'erflow. 280
Thus at full ease in heaps of riches roll'd,
What grieves the monarch? Is it thirst for gold?
Say, shall we march with our unconquer'd powers
(The Greeks and I,) to Ilion's hostile towers,
And bring the race of royal bastards here

Pallas obeys, and from Olympus' height, Swift to the ships precipitates her flight: Ulysses, first in public cares, she found, For prudent council like the gods renown'd: Oppress'd with generous grief the hero stood, Nor drew his sable vessels to the flood: And is it thus, divine Laertes' son! Thus fly the Greeks (the martial maid begun) Thus te their country bear their own disgrace, And fame eternal leave to Priam's race? Shall beauteous Helen still remain unfreed? Still unrevenged a thousand heroes bleed? Haste, generous Ithacus! prevent the shame, Recall your armies, and your chiefs reclaim. Your own resistless eloquence employ, And to the immortals trust the fall of Troy. The voice divine confess'd the warlike maid, Ulysses heard, nor uninspired obey'd: Then meeting first Atrides, from his hand Received the imperial sceptre of command. Thus graced, attention and respect to gain, He runs, he flies through all the Grecian train, Each prince of name, or chief in arms approved, IIe fired with praise, or with persuasion moved. Warriors like you, with strength and wisdom blest, By brave examples should confirm the rest. The monarch's will not yet reveal'd appears; He tries our courage, but resents our fears. The unwary Greeks his fury may provoke; Not thus the king in secret council spoke. Jove loves our chief, from Jove his honour springs; Beware! for dreadful is the wrath of kings.

But if a clamorous vile plebeian rose,

For Troy to ransom at a price too dear?
But safer plunder thy own host supplies:

220 Say, wouldst thou seize some valiant leader's prize ?

Or, if thy heart to generous love be led,
Some captive fair, to bless thy kingly bed?
Whate'er our master craves, submit we must,
Plagued with his pride, or punish'd for his lust.
Oh women of Achaia! men no more!
Hence let us fly, and let him waste his store
In loves and pleasures on the Phrygian shore.
We may be wanted on some busy day,

When Hector comes: so great Achilles may:
230 From him he forced the prize we jointly gave,
From him the fierce, the fearless, and the brave:
And durst he, as he ought, resent that wrong,
This mighty tyrant were no tyrant long.

Fierce from his seat at this Ulysses springs,
In generous vengeance of the king of kings.

Him with reproof he check'd, or tamed with blows. With indignation sparkling in his eyes,

Be st ll, thou slave, and to thy betters yield!

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Unknown alike in council and in field!
Ye gods, what dastards would our host command?
Swept to the war, the lumber of a land.
Be silent, wretch, and think not here allow'd
That worst of tyrants, an usurping crowd.
To one sole monarch Jove commits the sway;
His are the laws, and him let all obey.

With words like these the troops Ulysses rul'd;
The loudest silenced, and the fiercest cool'd.
Back to the assembly roll the thronging train,
Desert the ships, and pour upon the plain.

Murmuring they move, as when old Ocean roars,
And heaves huge surges to the trembling shores: 250
The groaning banks are burst with bellowing sound,
The rocks remurmer and the deeps rebound.
At length the tumult sinks, the noises cease,
And a still silence lulls the camp to peace.
Thersites only clamour'd in the throng,
Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue:
Awed by no shame, by no respect controll'd,
In scandal busy, in reproaches bold:
With witty malice studious to defame:
Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim.
But chief he gloried with licentious style,
To lash the great, and monarchs to revile.
His figure such as might his soul proclaim;
One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame:
His mountain-shoulders half his breast o'erspread,
Thin hairs bestrew'd his long mis-shapen head.
Spleen to mankind his envious heart possess'd,
And much he hated all, but most the best.
Ulysses or Achilles still his theme:
But royal scandal his delight supreme.

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He views the wretch, and sternly thus replies :
Peace, factious monster, born to vex the state,
With wrangling talents form'd for foul debate:
Curb that impetuous tongue, nor rashly vain
And singly mad, asperse the sovereign reign.
Have we not known thee, slave! of all our host, 310
The man who acts the least, upbraids the most?
Think not the Greeks to shameful flight to bring,
Nor let those lips profane the name of king.
For our return we trust the heavenly powers;
Be that their care; to fight like men be ours.
But grant the host with wealth the general load,
Except detraction, what hast thou bestow'd?
Suppose some hero should his spoils resign,
Art thou that hero? could those spoils be thine?
Gods! let me perish on this hateful shore,
And let these eyes behold my son no more,
If, on thy next offence, this hand forbear
To strip those arms thou ill deservest to wear,
Expel the council where our princes meet,
And send thee scourged and howling through the

fleet.

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He said, and cowering as the dastard bends;
The weighty sceptre on his back descends:
On the round bunch the bloody tumours rise;
The tears spring starting from his haggard eyes:
Trembling he sat, and shrunk in abject fears,
From his vile visage wiped the scalding tears.
While to his neighbour each express'd his thought.
Ye gods! what wonders has Ulysses wrought!
What fruits his conduct and his courage yield;
Great in the council, glorious in the field!
Generous he rises in the crown's defence,

270 To curb the factious tongue of insolence.

Such just examples on offenders shown,
Sedition silence, and assert the throne.
'Twas thus the general voice the hero praised,
Who rising, high the imperial sceptre raised:
The blue-eyed Pallas, his celestial friend,
(In form a herald) bade the crowds attend.
The expecting crowds in still attention hung,
To hear the wisdom of his heavenly tongue.
Then deeply thoughtful, pausing ere he spoke,
His silence thus the prudent hero broke :

Vow'd with libations and with victims then,
Now vanish'd like their smoke: the faith of men!
While useless words consume the unactive hours,

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341 No wonder Troy so long resists our powers.
Rise, great Atrides! and with courage sway:
We march to war if thou direct the way.
But leave the few that dare resist thy laws,
The mean deserters of the Grecian cause,
To grudge the conquests mighty Jove prepares,
And view with envy our successful wars.
On that great day when first the martial train,
Big with the fate of Ilion, plough'd the main;
350 Jove, on the right, a prosperous signal sent,
And thunder rolling shook the firmament.
Encouraged hence, maintain the glorious strife, 420
Till every soldier grasp a Phrygian wife,
Till Helen's woes at full revenged appear,
And Troy's proud matrons render tear for tear.
Before that day, if any Greek invite
His country's troops to base, inglorious flight;
Stand forth that Greek! and hoist his sail to fly,
And die the dastard first, who dreads to die.
But now, O monarch! all thy chiefs advise:
Nor what they offer, thou thyself despise.
Among those counsels let not mine be vain;
In tribes and nations to divide thy train;
His separate troops let every leader call,
Each strengthen each, and all encourage all.
What chief, or soldier, of the numerous band,
Or bravely fights, or ill obeys command,
When thus distinct they war, shall soon be known,
And what the cause of Ilion not o'erthrown;
If fate resists, or if our arms are slow,
If gods above prevent, or men below.

Unhappy monarch! whom the Grecian race,
With shame deserting, heap with vile disgrace.
Not such at Argos was their generous vow,
Once all their voice, but ah! forgotten now,
Ne'er to return, was then the common cry,
Till Troy's proud structures should in ashes lie.
Behold them weeping for their native shore!
What could their wives or helpless children more?
What heart but melts to leave the tender train,
And, one short month, endure the wintry main?
Few leagues removed, we wish our peaceful seat,
When the ship tosses, and the tempests beat:
Then well may this long stay provoke their tears,
The tedious length of nine revolving years.
Not for their grief the Grecian host I blame;
But vanquish'd! baffled! oh eternal shame!
Expect the time to Troy's destruction given,
And try the fate of Calchas and of heaven.
What pass'd at Aulis, Greece can witness bear,
And all who live to breathe this Phrygian air.
Beside a fountain's sacred brink we raised
Our verdant altars, and the victims blazed;
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('Twas where the plane-tree spread its shades around,)
The altars heaved; and from the crumbling ground
A mighty dragon shot, of dire portent;

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From Jove himself the dreadful sign was sent.
Straight to the tree his sanguine spires he roll'd,
And curl'd around in many a winding fold.
The topmost branch a mother-bird possess'd;
Eight callow infants fill'd the mossy nest;
Herself the ninth; the serpent as he hung,
Stretch'd his black jaws, and crash'd the crying young;
While hovering near, with miserable moan,
The drooping mother wail'd her children gone.
The mother last as round the nest she flew,
Seized by the beating wing, the monster slew :
Nor long survived; to marble turn'd he stands
A lasting prodigy on Aulis' sands.
Such was the will of Jove; and hence we dare
Trust in his omen, and support the war.
For while around we gazed with wondering eyes,
And trembling sought the powers with sacrifice,
Full of his god, the reverend Calchas cried:
Ye Grecian warriors! lay your fears aside.
This wondrous signal, Jove himself displays,
Of long, long labours, but eternal praise.
As many birds as by that snake were slain,
So many years the toils of Greece remain;
But wait the tenth, for Ilion's fall decreed;
Thus spoke the prophet, thus the fates succeed.

Obey, ye Grecians: with submission wait,

Nor let your flight avert the Trojan fate.

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To him the king: How much thy years excel 440
In arts of council, and in speaking well!
O would the gods, in love to Greece, decree
But ten such sages as they grant in thee;
Such wisdom soon should Priam's force destroy,
And soon should fall the haughty towers of Troy!
But Jove forbids, who plunges those he hates
In fierce contention and in vain debates.
Now great Achilles from our aid withdraws,
By me provoked; a captive maid the cause:
If e'er as friends we join, the Trojan wall
Must shake, and heavy will the vengeance fall.
But now, ye warriors, take a short repast;
And, well refresh'd, to bloody conflict haste.
His sharpen'd spear let every Grecian wield,
And every Grecian fix his brazen shield;
Let all excite the fiery steeds of war,
And all for combat fit the rattling car.
This day, this dreadful day, let each contend;
No rest, no respite, till the shades descend,
Till darkness, or till death, shall cover all,
Let the war bleed, and let the mighty fall;
Till bathed in sweat be every manly breast,
With the huge shield each brawny arm deprest,
Each aching nerve refuse the lance to throw,
And each spent courser at the chariot blow.
Who dare, inglorious, in his ships to stay,
Who dares to tremble on this signal day,

He said: the shores with loud applauses sound, 400 That wretch, too mean to fall by martial power,

The hollow ships each deafening shout rebound.

Then Nestor thus: these vain debates forbear,

Ye talk like children, not like heroes dare.
Where now are all your high resolves at last?

Your leagues concluded, your engagements past?

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The birds shall mangle, and the dogs devour.

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Straight to the tents the troops dispersing bend,
The fires are kindled, and the smokes ascend;
With hasty feats they sacrifice, and pray
To avert the dangers of the doubtful day.
A steer of five years' age, large limb'd and fed,
To Jove's high altars Agamemnon led;
There bade the noblest of the Grecian peers;
And Nestor first, as most advanced in years.
Next came Idomenus, and Tydeus' son,
Ajax the less, and Ajax Telamon;

Then wise Ulysses in his rank was placed;
And Menelaus came unbid, the last.

The chiefs surround the destined beast, and take
The sacred offering of the salted cake:

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Now tower aloft, and course in airy rounds;
Now light with noise: with noise the field resounds
Thus numerous and confused extending wide,
480 The legions croud Scamander's flowery side;
With rushing troops the plains are cover'd o'er,
And thundering footsteps shake the sounding shore.
Along the river's level meads they stand,
Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land,
Or leaves the trees; or thick as insects play,
The wandering nation of a summer's day,
That, drawn by milky steams at evening hours,
In gather'd swarms surround the rural bowers;
From pail to pail with busy murmur run
The gilded legions, glittering in the sun.
So throng'd, so close the Grecian squadrons stood
In radiant arms, and thirst for Trojan blood.
Each leader now his scatter'd force conjoins,
In close array, and forms the deepening lines.
Not with more ease, the skilful shepherd swain
Collects his flock from thousands on the plain.
The king of kings, majestically tall,
Towers o'er his armies, and outshines them all:
Like some proud bull that round the pastures leads
His subject herds, the monarch of the meads.
Great as the gods, the exalted chief was seen,
His strength like Neptune, and like Mars his mien;
Jove o'er his eyes celestial glories spread,
And dawning conquest play'd around his head.
Say, virgins, seated round the throne divine,
All-knowing goddesses! immortal Nine!
Since earth's wide regions, heaven's unmeasured

When thus the king prefers his solemn prayer:
Oh thou! whose thunder rends the clouded air,
Who in the heaven of heavens hast fix'd thy throne,
Supreme of gods! unbounded and alone!
Hear! and before the burning sun descends,
Before the night her gloomy veil extends,
Low in the dust be laid yon hostile spires,
Be Priam's palace sunk in Grecian fires,
In Hector's breast be plunged this shining sword,
And slaughter'd heroes groan around their lord!
Thus pray'd the chief: his unavailing prayer
Great Jove refused and toss'd in empty air:
The god, averse, while yet the fumes arose,
Prepare new toils, and doubled woes on woes.
Their prayers perform'd, the chiefs the rite pursue,
The barley sprinkled, and the victim slew.
The limbs they sever from the inclosing hide,
The thighs, selected to the gods, divide.
On these, in double cauls involved with art,
The choicest morsels lie from every part.
From the cleft wood the crackling flames aspire,
While the fat victim feeds the sacred fire.

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height,

And hell's abyss, hide nothing from your sight,

The thighs thus sacrificed, and entrails dress'd, 510 (We, wretched mortals! lost in doubts below,
The assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest;
Then spread the tables, the repast prepare,
Each takes his seat and each receives his share.
Soon as the rage of hunger was suppress'd,
The generous Nestor thus the prince address'd:

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Now bid thy heralds sound the loud alarms,
And call the squadrons sheath'd in brazen arms:
Now scise the occasion, now the troops survey,
And lean o war when heaven directs the way.
He said: the monarch issued his commands;
Straight the loud heralds call the gathering bands.
The chiefs inclose their king; the host divide,
In tribes and nations rank'd on either side.
High in the midst the blue-eyed virgin flies;
From rank to rank she darts her ardent eyes:
The dreadful ægis, Jove's immortal shield,
Blazed on her arm, and lighten'd all the field:
Round the vast orb a hundred serpents roll'd,
Form'd the bright fringe, and seem'd to burn in gold.
With this each Grecian's manly breast she warms, 530
Swells their bold hearts, and strings their nervous arms;
No more they sigh, inglorious to return,

But guess by rumour, and but boast we know,)
Oh say what heroes, fired by thirst of fame,
Or urged by wrongs, to Troy's destruction came?
To count them all, demands a thousand tongues, 580
A throat of brass, and adamantine lungs.
Daughters of Jove, assist! inspired by you,
The mighty labour dauntless I pursue :
What crowded armies, from what climes they bring
Their names, their numbers, and their chiefs, I sing.

The Catalogue of the Ships.

The hardy warriors whom Bœotia bred,
Penelius, Leitus, Prothoënor led:
With these Arcesilaus and Clonius stand,
Equal in arms, and equal in command.
These head the troops that rocky Aulis yields 590
And Eteon's hills, and Hyrie's watry fields,
And Schœnos, Scholos, Græa near the main,
And Mycalessia's ample piny plain.

But breathe revenge, and for the combat burn.
As on some mountain, through the lofty grove,

Those who in Peteon or Ilesion dwell,
Or Harma, where Apollo's prophet fell;
Heleon and Hyle, which the springs o'erflow;
And Medeon lofty, and Ocalea low;

The crackling flames ascend, and blaze above,
The fires expanding, as the winds arise,

Shoot their long beams, and kindle half the skies:
So from the polish'd arms, and brazen shields,

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A gleamy splendour flash'd along the fields.

Platea green, and Nisa the divine.

Not less their number than the embodied cranes, 540 And they whom Thebe's well-built walls inclose,

Or milk-white swans in Asius' watry plains,

Where Mydè, Eutresis, Coronè rose;

And Arnè rich, with purple harvests crown'd:
And Anthedon, Bœotia's utmost bound.
Full fifty ships they send, and each conveys
Twice sixty warriors through the foaming seas.

To these succeed Aspledon's martial train,
Who plough the spacious Orchomenian plain.
Two valiant brothers rule the undaunted throng,
Iälmen and Ascalaphus the strong,
Sons of Astyochè, the heavenly fair,
Whose virgin charms subdued the god of war:
(In Actor's court as she retired to rest,
The strength of Mars the blushing maid compress'd:)
Their troops in thirty sable vessels sweep,
With equal oars, the hoarse-resounding deep.

The Phocians next in forty barks repair,
Epistrophus and Schedius head the war.
From those rich regions where Cephissus leads,
His siiver current through the flowery meads;
From Panopea, Chrysa the divine,
Where Anemoria's stately turrets shine,
Where Pytho, Daulis, Cyparissus, stood,
And fair Lilæa views the rising flood.
These ranged in order on the floating tide,
Close, on the left, the bold Bœotians' side.

Fierce Ajax led the Locrian squadrons on,
Ajax the less, Oileus' valiant son;
Skill'd to direct the flying dart aright;
Swift in pursuit, and active in the fight.
Him, as their chief, the chosen troops attend,
Which Bessa, Thronus, and rich Cynos send:
Opus, Calliarus, and Scarphè's bands;

In twelve black ships to Troy they steer their

course,

And with the great Athenians join their force.
Next move to war the generous Argive train,

610 From high Træzenè, and Maseta's plain,
And fair Ægina circled by the main:
Whom strong Tyrithe's lofty walls surround,
And Epidaur with viny harvests crown'd;
And where fair Asinen and Hermion show
Their cliffs above, and ample bay below.
These by the brave Euryalus were led,
Great Sthenelus, and greater Diomed;
But chief Tydides bore the sovereign sway;
In fourscore barks they plough the watery way.
The proud Mycenè arms her martial powers,
Cleonè, Corinth, with imperial towers,
Fair Aræthyrea, Ornia's fruitful plain,
And Ægion, and Adrastus' ancient reign:
And those who dwell along the sandy shore,
And where Pellenè yields her fleecy store,
Where Helicè and Hypéresia lie,
And Gonoëssa's spires salute the sky.
Great Agamemnon rules the numerous band,
A hundred vessels in long order stand,

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630 And crowded nations wait his dread command.
High on the deck the king of men appears,
And his refulgent arms in triumph wears;
Proud of his host, unrivall'd in his reign,
In silent pomp he moves along the main.
His brother follows, and to vengeance warms
The hardy Spartans, exercised in arms:

And those who dwell where pleasing Augia stands, Phares and Brysia's valiant troops, and those

And where Boägrius floats the lowly lands,
Or in fair Tarphè's sylvan seats reside,
In forty vessels cut the liquid tide.
Euboë next her martial sons prepares,
And sends the brave Abantes to the wars:
Breathing revenge, in arms they take their way
From Chalcis' walls, and strong Eretria;
The Isteian fields for generous vines renown'd,
The fair Carystos, and the Styrian ground;
Where Dios from her towers o'erlooks the plain,
And high Cerinthus views the neighbouring main.
Down their broad shoulders falls a length of hair;
Their hands dismiss not the long lance in air;
But with protended spears in fighting fields,
Pierce the tough corslets and the brazen shields.
Twice twenty ships transport the warlike bands,
Which bold Elphenor, fierce in arms, commands.

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Whom Lacedæmon's lofty hills inclose:
Or Messe's towers for silver doves renown'd,

640 Amyclæ, Laäs, Augia's happy ground,
And those whom Etylos' low walls contain,
And Helos, on the margin of the main:
These, o'er the bending ocean, Helen's cause,
In sixty ships with Menelais draws:
Eager and loud from man to man he flies,
Revenge and fury flaming in his eyes;
While, vainly fond, in fancy oft he hears
The fair-one's grief, and sees her falling tears.

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Full fifty more from Athens stem the main,
Led by Menestheus through the liquid plain,
(Athens the fair, where great Erectheus sway'd,
That owed his nurture to the blue-eyed maid,
But from the teeming furrow took his birth,
The mighty offspring of the foodful earth.
Him Pallas placed amidst her wealthy fane,
Adored with sacrifice and oxen slain;
Where, as the years revolve, her altars blaze,
And all the tribes resound the goddess' praise.)
No chief like thee, Menestheus! Greece could yield,
To marshal armies in the dusty field,

The extended wings of battle to display,
Or close the embodied host in firm array.
Nestor alone, improved by length of days,
For martial conduct bore an equal praise.
With these appear the Salaminian bands,
Whom the gigantic Telamon commands;

In ninety sail, from Pylos' sandy coast,
Nestor the sage conducts his chosen host:
From Amphigenia's ever-fruitful land;
Where Æpy high, and little Pteleon stand;
Where beauteous Arenè her structures shows,
And Thryon's walls Alpheüs' streams inclose: 720
And Dorion, famed for Thamyris' disgrace,
Superior once of all the tuneful race,
Till, vain of mortals' empty praise, he strove
To match the seed of cloud-compelling Jove!
Too daring bard! whose unsuccessful pride

730

660 The immortal muses in their art defied.
The avenging Muses of the light of day
Deprived his eyes, and snatch'd his voice away;
No more his heavenly voice was heard to sing,
His hand no more awaked the silver string.
Where under high Cyllenè, crown'd with wood,
The shaded tomb of old Æpytus stood;
From Ripè, Stratie, Tegea's bordering towns,
The Phenean fields, and Orchomenian downs,
Where the fat herds in plenteous pasture rove,

670 And Stymphelus with her surrounding grove,
Parrhasia, on her snowy cliffs reclined,
And high Enispè shook by wintry wind,

And fair Mantinea's ever-pleasing site;
In sixty sail the Arcadian bands unite.
Bold Agapenor, glorious at their head
(Ancæus' son,) the mighty squadron led.
Their ships, supplied by Agamemnon's care,
Through roaring seas the wondering warriors bear; By mighty Jove, the sire of men and gods,

The first to battle on the appointed plain,
But new to all the dangers of the main.

Where many seas and many sufferings past,
740 On happy Rhodes the chief arrived at last:
There in three tribes divides his native band,
And rules them peaceful in a foreign land:
Increased and prosper'd in their new abodes,

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With joy they saw the growing empire rise,
And showers of wealth descending from the skies.
Three ships with Nireus sought the Trojan shore
Nireus, whom Agläe to Charopus bore;
Nireus, in faultless shape and blooming grace,

Those, where fair Helis and Buprasium join;
Whom Hyrmin here, and Myrsinus confine,
And bounded there, where o'er the valleys rose
The Olenian rock; and where Alisium flows;
Beneath four chiefs (a numerous army) came;
The strength and glory of the Epean name.
In separate squadrons these their train divide,
Each leads ten vessels through the yielding tide.
One was Amphimacus, and Thalpius one;
(Eurytus' this, and that Teätus' son ;)
Diores sprung from Amarynceus' line;
And great Polyxenus, of force divine.
But those who view fair Elis o'er the seas
From the bless'd islands of the Echinades,
In forty vessels under Meges move,
Begot by Phileus the beloved of Jove.
To strong Dulichium from his sire he fled,
And thence to Troy his hardy warriors led.
Ulysses follow'd through the watery road,
A chief, in wisdom equal to a god.
With those whom Cephalenia's isle inclosed,
Or till their fields along the coast opposed;

750 The loveliest youth of all the Grecian race;
Pelides only match'd his early charms;
But few his troops, and small his strength in

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820

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With female beauty far beyond the rest.
Full fifty ships beneath Achilles' care,

Or where fair Ithaca o'erlooks the floods,

The Achaians, Myrmidons, Hellenians bear;
Thessalians all, though various in their name;
The same their nation, and their chief the same.

Where high Neritos shakes his waving woods, 770 But now inglorious, stretch'd along the shore,

Where Ægilipa's rugged sides are seen,

Crocylíà rocky, and Zacynthus green.

These in twelve galleys with vermilion prores,
Beneath his conduct sought the Phrygian shores.

Thoas came next, Andræmon's valiant son,

They hear the brazen voice of war no more;
No more the foe they face in dire array:
Close in his fleet their angry leader lay,
Since fair Briseïs from his arms was torn,
The noblest spoil from sack'd Lyrnessus borne,
Then, when the chief the Theban walls o'erthrew,
And the bold sons of great Evenus slew.
There mourn'd Achilles, plunged in depth of care,
But soon to rise in slaughter, blood, and war.

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From Pleuron's walls, and chalky Calydon,
And rough Pylenè, and the Olenian steep,
And Chalcis beaten by the rolling deep.
He led the warriors from the Etolian shore,
For now the sons of Eneus were no more!
The glories of the mighty race were fled!
Eneus himself, and Meleager dead!
To Thoas' care now trust the martial train,
His forty vessels follow through the main.
Next eighty barks the Cretan king commands,
Of Gnossus, Lyctus, and Gortyna's bands,
And those who dwell where Rhytion's domes arise,
Or white Lycastus glitters to the skies,
Or where by Phæstus silver Jardan runs;
Crete's hundred cities pour forth all her sons.
These march'd, Idomeneus, beneath thy care,
And Merion, dreadful as the god of war.

Tlepolemus, the son of Hercules,

Led nine swift vessels through the foamy seas;
From Rhodes with everlasting sunshine bright,
Jalyssus, Lindus, and Carmirus white.
His captive mother fierce Alcides bore,
From Ephyr's walls, and Sello's winding shore,
Where mighty towns in ruins spread the plain,
And saw their blooming warriors early slain.
The hero, when to manly years he grew,
Alcides' uncle, old Licymnius, slew;
For this, constrain'd to quit his native place,
And shun the vengeance of the Herculean race,
A fleet he built, and with a numerous train
Of willing exiles, wander'd o'er the main;

850

780 To these the youth of Phylacè succeed,
Itona, famous for her fleecy breed,
And grassy Pteleon deck'd with cheerful greens,
The bowers of Ceres, and the sylvan scenes,
Sweet Pyrrhasus, with blooming flowrets crown'd,
And Antron's watry dens, and cavern'd ground.
These own'd as chief Protesilas the 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,

790 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 Podacres 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 encircle Bæbe's lowly lake,
Where Phære hears the neighbouring waters fall,

800 Or proud lölcus lifts her airy wall,
In ten black ships embark'd for Ilion's shore,
With bold Eumelus, whom Alcestè bore:
All Pelias' race Alcestè far outshined,
The grace and glory of the beauteous kind.
The troops Methome or Thaumacia yields,
Olizon's rocks, or Melibœa's fields,

860

870

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