Then from a wretched friend this wisdom learn,
E'en to thy queen disguis'd, unknown, return;
For since of womankind so few are just,
Think all are false, nor e'en the faithful trust.
"But say, resides my son in royal port,
In rich Orchomenos, or Sparta's court?
Or say, in Pyle? for yet he views the light,
Nor glides a phantom through the realms of night."

'Then I: "Thy suit is vain, nor can I say
If yet he breathes in realms of cheerful day;
Or pale or wan beholds these nether skies :
Truth I revere; for wisdom never lies."

'Thus in a tide of tears our sorrows flow, And adds new horror to the realms of woe; Till side by side along the dreary coast Advanc'd Achilles' and Patroclus' ghost, A friendly pair! near these the Pylian stray'd, And towering Ajax, an illustrious shade ! War was his joy, and pleas'd with loud alarms, None but Pelides brighter shone in arms. 'Through the thick gloomhis friend Achilles knew, And as he speaks the tears descend in dew :

"Com'st thou alive to view the Stygian bounds, Where the wan spectres walk eternal rounds; Nor fear'st the dark and dismal waste to tread, Throng'd with pale ghosts, familiar with the dead?"

To whom with sighs: "I pass these dreadful gates. To seek the Theban, and consult the fates: For still distress'd I rove from coast to coast, Lost to my friends, and to my country lost. But sure the eye of time beholds no name So bless'd as thine in all the rolls of fame; Alive we hail'd thee with our guardian gods, And, dead, thou rul'st a king in these abodes."

"Talk not of ruling, in this dolorous gloom, Nor think vain words (he cried) can ease my doom. Rather I'd choose laboriously to bear A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air, A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread, Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead. But say, if in my steps my son proceeds, And emulates his godlike father's deeds? If at the clash of arms, and shout of foes, Swells his bold heart, his bosom nobly glows? Say if my sire, the reverend Peleus, reigns Great in his Pthia, and his throne maintains; Or weak and old, my youthful arm demands, To fix the sceptre stedfast in his hands? O might the lamp of life rekindled burn, And death release me from the silent urn! This arm that thunder'd o'er the Phrygian plain, And swell'd the ground with mountains of the slain, Should vindicate my injur'd father's fame, Crush the proud rebel, and assert his claim."

" Illustrious shade (I cried) of Peleus' fates No circumstance the voice of fame relates : But hear with pleas'd attention the renown, The wars and wisdom of thy gallant son: With me from Scyros to the field of fame Radiant in arms the blooming hero came. When Greece assembled all her hundred states To ripen counsels, and decide debates ; Heavens! how he charm'd us with a flow of sense, And won the heart with manly eloquence! He first was seen of all the peers to rise, The third in wisdom, where they all were wise; But when, to try the fortune of the day, Host mov'd toward host in terrible array,

Before the van, impatient for the fight,
With martial port he strode, and stern delight;
Heaps strew'd on heaps beneath his falchion groan'd,
And monuments of dead deform'd the ground.
The time would fail should I in order tell

What foes were vanquish'd, and what numbers fell :
How, lost through love, Eurypylus was slain,
And round him bled his bold Cetæan train.
To Troy no hero came of nobler line,
Or if of nobler, Memnon, it was thine.

"When Ilion in the horse receiv'd her doom,
And unseen armies ambush'd in its womb;
Greece gave her latent warriors to my care,
'Twas mine on Troy to pour the' imprison'd war :
Then when the boldest bosom beat with fear,
When the stern eyes of heroes dropp'd a tear;
Fierce in his look his ardent valour glow'd,
Flush'd in his cheek, or sallied in his blood;
Indignant in the dark recess he stands,
Pants for the battle, and the war demands;
His voice breath'd death, and with a martial air
He grasp'd his sword, and shook his glittering spear.
And when the gods our arms with conquest crown'd,
When Troy's proud bulwarks smok'd upon the
Greece, to reward her soldier's gallant toils, [ground,
Heap'd high his navy with unnumber'd spoils.

"Thus great in glory, from the din of war Safe he return'd, without one hostile scar; Though spears in iron tempests rain'd around, Yet innocent they play'd, and guiltless of a wound."

'While yet I spoke, the shade with transport Rose in his majesty, and nobler trod; [glow'd, With haughty stalk he sought the distant glades Of warrior-kings, and join'd the' illustrious shades.

Now without number ghost by ghost arose, All wailing with unutterable woes. Alone, apart, in discontented mood, A gloomy shade, the sullen Ajax stood; For ever sad, with proud disdain he pin'd, And the lost arms for ever stung his mind; Though to the contest Thetis gave the laws, And Pallas, by the Trojans, judg'd the cause. Oh why was I victorious in the strife; O dear-bought honour with so brave a life! With him the strength of war, the soldiers' pride, Our second hope to great Achilles, died ! Touch'd at the sight from tears I scarce refrain, And tender sorrow thrills in every vein ; Pensive and sad I stand, at length accost With accents mild the' inexorable ghost:

[sent

"Still burns thy rage? and can brave souls reE'en after death? Relent, great shade, relent! Perish those arms which by the gods' decree Accurs'd our army with the loss of thee !

With thee we fell; Greece wept thy hapless fates;
And shook astonish'd through her hundred states;
Not more, when great Achilles press'd the ground,
And breath'd his manly spirit through the wound.
O deem thy fall not ow'd to man's decree,
Jove hated Greece, and punish'd Greece in thee !
Turn then, O peaceful turn, thy wrath control,
And calm the raging tempest of thy soul."

، While yet I speak, the shade disdains to stay, In silence turns, and sullen stalks away.

"Touch'd at his sour retreat, through deepest night, Through hell's black bounds I had pursued his flight, And forc'd the stubborn spectre to reply; But wondrous visions drew my curious eye.

High on a throne, tremendous to behold,
Stern Minos waves a mace of burnish'd gold;
Around ten thousand thousand spectres stand
Through the wide dome of Dis, a trembling band.
Still as they plead, the fatal lots he rolls,
Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls.

There huge Orion, of portentous size,
Swift through the gloom a giant-hunter flies;
A pondrous mace of brass with direful sway
Aloft he whirls, to crush the savage prey;
Stern beasts in trains that by his truncheon fell,
Now grisly forms, shoot o'er the lawns of hell.

'There Tityus large and long, in fetters bound, O'erspread nine acres of infernal ground; Two ravenous vultures, furious for their food, Scream o'er the fiend, and riot in his blood, Incessant gore the liver in his breast, [feast: The immortal liver grows, and gives the' immortal For as o'er Panopé's enamell'd plains Latona journey'd to the Pythian fanes, With haughty love the' audacious monster strove To force the goddess, and to rival Jove.

There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds Pours out deep groans; (with groans all hell re

sounds)

E'en in the circling floods refreshment craves,
And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves:
When to the water he his lip applies,
Back from his lip the treacherous water flies.
Above, beneath, around his hapless head,
Trees of all kinds delicious fruitage spread;
There figs sky-dyed, a purple hue disclose,
Green looks the olive, the pomegranate glows,
There dangling pears exalted seents unfold,
And yellow apples ripen into gold;