Could any mortal hand prevent our fate,
This hand, and this alone, had sav'd the state.
Troy to thy care commends her wand'ring gods;
With these pursue thy fortunes o'er the floods
To that proud city, thou shalt raise at last,
Return'd from wand'ring wide the wat'ry waste."
This said, he brought from Vesta's hallow'd quire
The sacred wreaths, and everlasting fire.

"Meantime tumultuous round the walls arise Shrieks, clamours, shouts, and mingle in the skies.

And (though remote my father's palace stood,
With shades surrounded, and a gloomy wood)
Near, and more near, approach the dire alarms;
The voice of woe; the dreadful din of arms.
Rous'd at the deaf'ning peal that roars around,
I mount the dome, and listen to the sound.
Thus o'er the corn, while furious winds conspire,
Rolls on a wide-devouring blaze of fire;
Or some big torrent, from a mountain's brow,
Bursts, pours, and thunders down the vale below,
O'erwhelms the fields, lays waste the golden grain,
And beadlong sweeps the forests to the main;
Stunu'd at the din, the swain with list'ning ears
From some steep rock the sounding ruin hears.
"Now Hector's warning prov'd too clear and
true,

The wiles of Greece appear'd in open view;
The roaring flames in volumes huge aspire,
And wrap thy dome, Deïphobus, in fire;
Thine, sage Ucalegon, next strow'd the ground,
And stretch'd a vast unmeasur'd ruin round,
Wide o'er the waves the bright reflection plays;
The surges redden with the distant blaze.
Then shouts and trumpets swell the dire alarms;
And, though 'twas vain, I madly flew to arms:
Eager to raise a band of friends, and pour
In one firm body, to defend the tow'r;
Rage and revenge my kindling bosom fire,
Warm and in arms, to conquer or expire.
But lo! poor Pantheus, Phœbus' priest appears,
Just scap'd the foe, dictracted with his fears,
The sage his vanquish'd gods and relics bore,

And with his trembling grandson sought the shore.

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Say, Pantheus, how the fate of Ilion stands?

Say, if a tow'r remains in Trojan hands??
He thus with groans; - Our last sad hour is come,
Our certain, fixt, inevitable doom.
Troy once was great, but oh! the scene is o'er,
Her glory vanquish'd! and her name no more!
For partial Jove transfers her past renown
To Greece, who triumphs in her burning town;
And the huge monster from his op'ning side
Pours forth her warriors in an endless tide;
With joy proud Sinon sees the flames aspire,
Heaps blaze on blaze, and mingles fire with fire;
Here thousands pouring through the gates appear:
Far more than proud Mycenæ sent to war
Some seize the passes; groves of spears arise,
That thirst for blood, and flash against the skies.
The guards but just maintain a feeble fight
With their fierce foes, amidst the gloomy night."

"While Pantheus' words, while ev'ry god inspires,
I flew to arms; and rush'd amidst the fires,
Where the loud furies call, where shouts and cries
Ring round the walls, and thunder in the skies.
Now faithful Ripheus on my side appears,
With hoary Iphitus, advane'd in years;
And valiant Hypazis and Dymas, known
By the pale splendours of the glimm'ring moon;

With these Chorœbus, Mygdon's generous boy,
Who came, ill-fated, to the wars of Troy;
Fir'd with the fair Cassandra's blooming charms,
To aid her sire with unavailing arms;
Ah! brave unhappy youth!-he would not hear
His bride inspir'd, who warn'd him from the war!

"These when I saw, with fierce collected might,

Breathing revenge, and crowding to the fight;
With warmth I thus address'd the gen'rous train:
'Ye bold, brave youths, but bold and brave in
vain!

If by your dauntless souls impell'd, you dare
With me to try th' extremities of war;
You see our hopeless state; how every god,
Who guarded Troy, has left his old abode;
You aid a town already sunk in fire;
Fly, fly to arms, and gloriously expire;
Let all rush on, and, vanquish'd as we are,
Catch one last beam of safety from despair."
Thus while my words inflame the list'ning crew,
With rage redoubled to the flight they flew
As hungry wolves, while clouds involve the day,
Rush from their dens; and, prowling wide for prey,
Howl to the tempest, while the savage brood,
Stretch'd in the cavern, pant and thirst for blood;
So through the town, determin'd to expire,
Through the thick storm of darts, and smoke and fire,
Wrapt and surrounded with the shades of night,
We rush'd to certain death, and mingled in the fight.
"What tongue the dreadful slaughter could dis
close?

Or oh! what tears could answer half our woes?
The glorious empress of the nations round,
Majestic Troy lay levell'd with the ground;
Her murder'd natives crowded her abodes,
Her streets, her domes, the temples of her gods.
Nor Ilion bled alone: her turn succeeds,
And then she conquers, and proud Argos bleeds;
Death in a thousand forms destructive frown'd,
And woe, despair, and horrour rag'd around.

"And first Androgeos, whom a train attends,
With style familiar hail'd us as his friends;
'Haste, brave associates, haste; what dull delay
Detains you here, while others seize the prey?
In flames your friends have laid all Ilion waste,
And you come lagging from your ships the last.'
Thus he; but soon from our reply he knows
His fatal errour, compass'd round with foes;
Restrains his tongue, and, meditating flight,
Stops short; and startles at the dreadful sight
So the pale swain, who treads upon a snake
Unseen, and lurking in the gloomy brake,
Soon as his swelling spires in circles play,
Starts back, and shoots precipitate away.
Fierce we rush in, the heedless foes surround,
And lay the wretches breathless on the ground:
New to the place, with sudden terrour wild;
And thus at first our flatt'ring fortune smil'd.
Then, by his courage and success inspir'd,
His warlike train the brave Choræbus fir'd;
'Lo! friends, the road of safety you survey;
Let each in Argive arms his limbs disguise,
Come, follow fortune, where she points the way;
For if success an enemy attends,
And wield the bucklers, that the foe supplies;

Who asks, if fraud or valour gain'd his ends??
This said, Androgeos' crested helm he wore;
Then, on his arm, the ponderous buckler bore
With beauteous figures grac'd, and warlike pride
The starry sword hung glitt'ring at his side.

Bike him, bold Ripheus, Dymas, and the rest,
Their manly limbs in hostile armour drest.
With gods averse, we follow to the fight,
And, undistinguish'd in the shades of night,
Mix with the foes, employ the murdering steel,
And plunge whole squadrons to the depths of Hell.
Some, wild with fear, precipitate retreat,
Fly to the shore, and shelter in the fleet;
Some climb the monstrous horse, a frighted train,
And there lie trembling in the sides again.
But, Heav'n against us, all attempts must fail,
All hopes are vain, nor courage can prevail;
For lo! Cassandra, lo! the royal fair

From Pallas' shrine with loose dishevell'd hair
Dragg'd by the shouting victors;-to the skies
She rais'd, but rais'd in vain, her glowing eyes;
Her eyes she could no more-the Grecian bands
Had rudely manacled her tender hands;
Chorœbus could not bear that scene of woes,
But, fir'd with fury, flew amidst the foes;
As swift we follow to redeem the fair,
Rush to his aid, and thicken to the war.
Here from the temple on our troop descends
A storm of javelins from our Trojan friends,
Who from our arms and helmets deem'd us foes;

Roofs, tow'rs, and battlements the Trojans throw,
A pile of ruins! on the Greeks below;
Catch for defence the weapons of despair,
In these the dire extremes of death and war.
Now on their heads the pond'rous beams are roll'd,
By Troy's first monarchs crusted round with gold.
Here thronging troops with glitt'ring falchions

stand,

To guard the portals, and the door command.
Straight to the palace, fir'd with hopes, I go
To aid the vanquish'd, and repel the foe.
A secret portico contriv'd behind,
Great Hector's mansion to the palace join'd,
By which his hapless princess oft would bring
Her royal infant to the good old king.
This way the topmost battlements I gain,
Whence the tir'd Trojans threw their darts in vain.
Rais'd on a lofty point, a turret rears
Her stately head unrivall'd to the stars;
From hence we wont all Ilion to survey,
The fields, the camp, the fleets, and roiling seas
With steel the yielding timbers we assail'd,
Where loose the huge disjointed structure fail'd;
Then, tugg'd convulsive from the shatter'd walls,
We push the pile: the pond'rous ruin falls
Tumbling in many a whirl, with thund'ring sound,
Down headlong on the foes, and smokes along the

ground.

Here South and West charge dreadful in the skies: ❘ Brave Pyrrhus, glitt'ring in his brazen arms.

And hence a dreadful scene of slaughter rose.
Then all the Greeks our slender band invade,
And pour enrag'd to seize the rescu'd maid;
Ajax with all the bold Dolopians came,
And both the kings of Atreus' royal name.

So when the winds in airy conflict rise,

But crowds on crowds the bury'd troops supply; And in a storm the beams and rocky fragments fty. "Full in the portal rag'd with loud alarms

There louder Eurus, to the battle borne,

Mounts the swift coursers of the purple morn ;
Beneath the whirlwind roar the bending woods;
With his huge trident Neptune strikes the floods:
Foams, storms, and, tempesting the deeps around,
Bares the broad bosom of the dark profound.
Those two, we chas'd by night, a scatter'd train,
Now boldly rally, and appear again.

To them our Argive helins and arms are known,
Our voice and language diff'ring from their own.
We yield to numbers. By Peneleus' steel
First at Minerva's shrine Chorœbus fell.
Next Ripheus bled, the justest far of all
The sons of Troy; yet Heav'n permits his fall.
The like sad fate brave Hypanis attends,

And hapless Dymas, slaughter'd by their friends.
Nor thee, sage Pantheus! Phœbus' wreaths could
Nor all thy shining virtues, from the grave. [save,
Ye dear, dear ruins! and thou, Troy! declare
If once I trembled or declin'd the war:

Midst flames and foes a glorious death I sought,
And well deserv'd the death for which 1 fought.
Thence we retreat, our brave associates gone,
Pelias and Iphitus were left alone;
This slow with age and bending to the ground,
And that more tardy from Ulysses' wound.
Now from the palace-walls tumultuous ring
The shouts, and call us to defend the king;
There we beheld the rage of fight, and there
The throne of death, and centre of the war;
As Troy, all Troy beside had slept in peace,
Nor stain'd by slaughter, nor alarm'd by Greece.
Shield lock'd in shield, advance the Grecian pow'rs,
To burst the gates, and storm the regal tow'rs;
Fly up the steep ascent where danger calls,
And fix their scaling engines in the walls.
High in the left they grasp'd the fenceful shield,
Fierce in the right the rocky ramparts held;

So from his den, the winter slept away,
Shoots forth the burnish'd snake in open day;
Who, fed with every poison of the plain,
Sheds his old spoils, and shines in youth again;
Proud of his golden scales rolls tow'ring on,
And darts his forky sting, and glitters on the Sun.
"To him the mighty Periphas succeeds,
And the bold chief1 who drove his father's steeds;
With these the Scyrian bands advance, and aim
Full at the battlements the missive flame.
Fierce Pyrrhus in the front with forceful sway
Ply'd the huge axe, and hew'd the beams away;
The solid timbers from the portal tore,
And rent from ev'ry hinge the brazen door.

At last the chief a mighty op'ning made, [play'd:
And, all th' imperial dome, in all her length dis-
The sacred rooms of Troy's first monarchs lie,
With Priam's pomp, profan'd by every eye;
In arms the centries to the breach repair,
And stand embody'd, to repel the war.

"Now far within, the regal rooms disclose,
Loud and more loud, a direful scene of woes;
The roof resounds with female shrieks and cries,
And the shrill echo strikes the distant skies.
The trembling matrons fly from place to place,
And kiss the pillars with a last embrace;
Bold Pyrrhus storms with all his father's fire;
The barriers burst; the vanquish'd guards retire;
The shatter'd doors the thund'ring engines ply;
The bolts leap back; the sounding hinges fly;
The war breaks in; loud shouts the hostile train;
Through the wide courts the crowding Argives roam,
The gates are storm'd; the foremost soldiers slain:
And swarm triumphant round the regal dome.
Not half so fierce the foamy deluge bounds,
And bursts resistless o'er the level'd mounds;

Automedon.

Pours down the vale, and roaring o'er the plain,
Sweeps herds, and hinds, and houses to the main.

"These eyes within the gate th' Atrides view'd,
And furious Pyrrhus cover'd o'er with blood;
Sad they beheld, amid the mournful scene,
The hundred daughters with the mother queen,
And Priam's self polluting with his gore
Those flames, he hallow'd at the shrine before,
The fifty bridal rooms, a work divine!
(Such were his hopes of a long regal line)
Rich in barbaric gold, with trophies crown'd,
Sunk with their proud support of pillars round;
And, where the flames retire, the foes possess the

"And now, great queen, you haply long to know
The fate of Priam in this general woe.
When with sad eyes the venerable sire
Beheld his Ilion sunk in hostile fire;
His palace storm'd, the lofty gates laid low,

Loads each stiff languid limb, that shook with age; The man, the monarch, and the name no more!

That o'er the hearth and household-gods display'd
A solemn gloom, a deep majestic shade:
Hither, like doves, who close-embody'd fly
From some dark tempest black'ning in the sky,
The queen for refuge with her daughters ran,
Clung and embrac'd their images in vain.
But when in cumbrous arms the king she spy'd,
Alas! my poor unhappy lord?? she cry'd,
What more than madness, 'midst these dire

Mov'd thee to load thy helpless age with arms?
No aid like thine this dreadful hour demands,
But asks far other strength, far other hands.
No! could my own dear Hector arm again,
My own dear Hector now would arm in vain.
Come to these altars, here we all shall have
One common refuge, or one common grave.'
This said, her aged lord the queen embrac'd,
And on the sacred seat the monarch plac'd.

"When lo! Polites, one of Priam's sons, [runs. Through darts and foes, from slaught'ring Pyrrhus Wounded he traverses the cloyster'd dome,

Darts through the courts, and shoots from room to

Think if thy dear Creüsa yet survive,
Think if thy child, the young Iülus live;
Whom, ever hov'ring round, the Greeks enclose,
From ev'ry side endanger'd by the foes;

And, but my care withstood, the ruthless sword
Long since had slaughter'd, or the flames devour'd.
Nor beauteous Helen now, nor Paris blame,
Her guilty charms, or his unhappy flame;
The gods, my son, th' immortal gods destroy
This glorious empire, and the tow'rs of Troy.
Hence then retire, retire without delay,
Attend thy mother, and her words obey;
Look up, for lo! I dear thy clouded eye
From the thick midst of dim mortality;
Where yon rude piles of shatter'd ramparts rise,
Stone rent from stone, in dreadful ruin lies, [flies:
And black with rolling smoke the dusty whirlwind
There, Neptune's trident breaks the bulwarks

'Tis our last hour, and summons us to die;
My arms!-in vain you hold me,-let the go-
Give, give me back this moment to the foe.
'Tis well-we will not tamely perish all,

But die reveng'd, and triumph in our fall.'

Now rushing forth, in radiant arms, I wield The sword once more, and gripe the pond'rous shield.

When, at the door, my weeping spouse I meet,
The fair Creusa, who embrac'd my feet,
And clinging round them, with distraction wild,
Reach'd to my arms my dear unhappy child:
And 'Oh!" she cries, if bent on death thou run,
Take, take with thee, thy wretched wife and

Or, if one glimmering hope from arms appear,
Defend these walls, and try thy valour here;
Ah! who shall guard thy sire, when thou art slain,
Thy child, or me, thy consort once in vain ??
Thus while she raves, the vaulted dome replies
To her loud shrieks, and agonizing cries.

When lo! a wond'rous prodigy appears,
For while each parent kiss'd the boy with tears,
Sudden a circling flame was seen to spread
With beams refulgent round lülus' head;
Then on his locks the lambent glory preys,
And harmless fires around his temples blaze.
Trembling and pale we quench with busy care
The sacred fires, and shake his flaming hair.
But old Anchises lifts his joyful eyes,

His hands and voice, in transport, to the skies.
Almighty Jove! in glory thron'd on high,

This once regards us with a gracious eye;

Nn

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