That when with wondering eyes our martial bands
Behold our deeds tranfcending our commands,
Such, they may cry, deferve the fovereign state,
Whom thofe that envy, dare not imitate!
Could all our care elude the gloomy grave,
Which claims no lefs the fearful than the brave,
For luft of fame I should not vainly dare
In fighting fields, nor urge thy foul to war.
But fince, 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!
He faid; his words the listening chief infpire
With equal warmth, and rouze the warriour's fire;
The troops pursue their leaders with delight,
Rush to the foe, and claim the promis'd fight. 400
Menestheus from on high the storm beheld
Threatening the fort, and blackening in the field:
Around the walls he gaz'd, to view from far
What aid appear'd t' avert th' approaching war,
And faw where Teucer with th' Ajaces ftood,
Of fight insatiate, prodigal of blood.
In vain he calls; the din of helms and fhields
Rings to the fkies, and echoes through the fields,
The brazen hinges fly, the walls resound,
Heaven trembles, roar the mountains, thunders all the ground.
Then thus to Thoös ;-Hence with speed (he faid) And urge the bold Ajaces to our aid;
Their ftrength, united, beft may help to bear
The bloody labours of the doubtful war :
Hither the Lycian princes bend their course,
The best and bravest of the hoftile force.
But, if too fiercely there the foes contend,
Let Telamon, at least, our towers defend,
And Teucer hafte with his unerring bow,
To fhare the danger, and repel the foe.
Swift as the word, the herald speeds along
The lofty ramparts, through the martial throng;
And finds the heroes bath'd in fweat and gore,
Oppos'd in combat on the duty fhore.
Ye valiant leaders of our warlike bands!
Your aid (faid Thoös) Peleus' son demands,
Your strength, united, beft may help to bear
The bloody labours of the doubtful war:
Thither the Lycian princes bend their course,
The best and braveft of the hoftile force.
But if too fiercely here the foes contend,
At least, let Telamon thofe towers defend,
And Teucer hafte with his unerring bow,
To fhare the danger, and repel the foe.
Straight to the fort great Ajax turn'd his care, And thus bespoke his brothers of the war :
Now, valiant Lycomede! exert your might,
And, brave Oïleus, prove your force in fight:
Το you I trust the fortune of the field,
Till by this arm the foe fhall be repell'd;
That done, expect me to complete the day-
Then, with his feven-fold fhield, he ftrode away.
With equal steps bold Teucer prefs'd the fhore,
Whofe fatal bow the ftrong Pandion bore.
High on the walls appear'd the Lycian powers, 445Like fome black tempeft gathering round the towers; The Greeks, opprefs'd, their utmost force unite, Prepar'd to labour in th' unequal fight;
The war renews, mix'd fhouts and groans arife ;
Tumultuous clamour mounts, and thickens in the skies.
Fierce Ajax first th' advancing host invades,
And fends the brave Epicles to the shades,
Sarpedon's friend; acrofs the warriour's way,
Rent from the walls, a rocky fragment lay;
In modern ages not the strongest swain
Could heave th' unwieldy burthen from the plain.
He pois'd, and fwung it round; then, tofs'd on high, It flew with force, and labour'd up the sky;
Full on the Lycian's helmet thundering down,
The ponderous ruin crush'd his batter'd crown.
As fkilful divers from fome airy steep,
Headlong defcend, and fhoot into the deep,
So falls Epicles; then in groans expires,
And murmuring to the fhades the foul retires.
While to the ramparts daring Glaucus drew,
From Teucer's hand a winged arrow flew ;
The bearded fhaft the deftin'd paffage found,
And on his naked arm inflicts a wound.
chief, who fear'd fome foe's infulting boast
the progrefs of his warlike hoft,
wound, and, leaping from his height,
at from th' unfinish'd fight.
Divine Sarpedon with regret beheld
Difabled Glaucus flowly quit the field;
His heating breaft with generous ardour glows,
He fprings to fight, and flies upon the foes.
Alcmäon firft was doom'd his force to feel;
Deep in his breast he plung'd the pointed feel;
Then, from the yawning wound with fury tore
The fpear, pursued by gushing streams of gore;
Down finks the warriour with a thundering found,
His brazen armour rings against the ground.
Swift to the battlement the victor flies,
Tugs with full force, and every nerve applies;
It shakes; the ponderous ftones disjointed yield; 485 The rolling ruins fmoke along the field.
A mighty breach appears, the walls lie bare;
And, like a deluge, rushes in the war.
At once bold Teucer draws the twanging bow,
And Ajax fends his javelin at the foe:
Fix'd in his belt the feather'd weapon stood,
And through his buckler drove the trembling wood; But Jove was prefent in the dire debate,
To shield his offspring, and avert his fate.
The prince gave back, not meditating flight,
But urging vengeance, and feverer fight;
Then, rais'd with hope, and fir'd with glory's charms,
His fainting fquadrons to new fury warms:
O where, ye Lycians! is the ftrength you boast?
Your former fame and ancient virtue loft!
The breach lies open, but your chief in vain
Attempts alone the guarded pafs to gain :
Unite, and foon that hoftile fleet shall fall;
The force of powerful union conquers all.
This juft rebuke inflam'd the Lycian crew,
They join, they thicken, and th' assault renew:
Unmov'd th' embodied Greeks their fury dare,
And fix'd fupport the weight of all the war;
Nor could the Greeks repel the Lycian powers,
Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian towers.
As, on the confines of adjoining grounds,
Two stubborn fwains with blows difpute their bounds;
They tug, they fweat; but neither gain or yield,
One foot, one inch, of the contended field :
Thus obftinate to death they fight, they fall;
Nor these can keep, nor those can win, the wall.
Their manly breafts are pierc'd with many a wound,
Loud strokes are heard, and rattling arms resound,
The copious flaughter covers all the shore,
And the high ramparts drop with human gore.
As when two scales are charg'd with doubtful loads,
From fide to fide the trembling balance nods
(While fome laborious matron, just and poor,
With nice exactnefs weighs her woolly ftore)
Till, pois'd aloft, the retting beam fufpends
Each equal weight; nor this, nor that, defcends:
So flood the war, till Hector's matchless might
With Fates prevailing, turn'd the scale of fight.
Fierce as a whirlwind up the walls 'he flies,
his hoft with loud repeated cries:
Trojans ! lend your valiant hands,
et, and tofs the blazing brands!
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