?

"Who is there now that can protection give, "Since he who was her strength no more doth live? "Who of her rev'rend matrons will have care? 65 "Who fave her children from the rage of war "For he to all father and hufband was, "And all are orphans now, and widows, by his loss. "Soon will the Grecians now infulting come,

"And bear us captives to their distant home;

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"I, with my child, muft the fame fortune fhare, "And all alike be pris'ners of the war :

70

"'Mongit base-born wretches he his lot must have, "And be to fome inhuman lord a flave; "Elfe fome avenging Greek, with fury-fill'd, "Or for an only fon or father kill'd

By Hector's hand, on him will vent his rage, "And with his blood his thirsty grief affuage; "For many fell by his relentless hand,

66

75

[ftain'd.

Biting that ground which with their blood was "Fierce was thy father (O my Child!) in war, 81 "And never did his foe in battle spare;

[coft,

85

"Thence come these fuff'rings which so much have "Much wo to all, but fure to me the moft. "I faw him not when in the pangs of death, "Nor did my lips receive his latest breath. "Why held he not to me his dying hand? "And why receiv'd not I his last command?

"Something he would have faid, had I been there, "Which I fhould still in fad remembrance bear; 90

"For I could never, never, words forget,

Which night and day i fhould with tears repeat." She fpake, and wept afresh, when all around A general figh diffus'd a mournful found.

Then Hecuba, who long had been oppreft With boiling paffions in her aged breast, Mingling her words with fighs and tears, begun A lamentation for her darling fon.

HECUBA'S LAMENTATION.

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Hector! my joy, and to my foul more dear "Than all my other num'rous iffue were; "O my last comfort! and my best belov'd! "Thou at whose fall ev'n Jove himself was mov'd, "And fent a god his dread commands to bear, "So far thou wert high Heav'n's peculiar care!

From fierce Achilles' chains thy corpfe was freed;

"So kind a fate was for none else decreed:

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"My other fons, made pris'ners by his hands, "Were fold like flaves, and fhipp'd to foreign lands; "Thou, too, wert sentenc'd by his barb'rous doom, "And dragg'd, when dead, about Patroclus' tomb, "His lov'd Patroclus, whom thy hands had flain; "And yet that cruelty was urg'd in vain,

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Since all could not reftore his life again. "Now fresh and glowing even in death thou art, And fair as he who fell by Phoebus' dart."

}

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Here weeping Hecuba her paffion stay'd, And univerfal moan again was made; When Helen's lamentation her's fupply'd, And thus, aloud, that fatal beauty cry'd.

HELEN'S LAMENTATION.

"O Hector! thou wert rooted in my heart, 120 "No brother there had half fo large a part! "Not lefs than twenty years are now pafs'd o'er "Since firft I landed on the Trojan fhore,

"Since I with godlike Paris fled from home, "(Would I had dy'd before that day had come!) 125 "In all which time (fo gentle was thy mind) "I ne'er could charge thee with a deed unkind; "Not one untender word, or look of scorn, "Which I too often have from others borne: "But you from their reproach fill fet me free, 130 "And kindly have reprov'd their cruelty;

"If by my filters or the queen revil'd,

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"(For the good king, like you, was ever mild) "Your kindness still has all my grief beguil'd. "Ever in tears let me your lofs bemoan, "Who had no friend alive but you alone : All will reproach me now where'er I pafs, "And fly with horrour from my hated face." This said, she wept, and the vast throng was mov'd, And with a gen'ral figh her grief approv'd:

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When Priam (who had heard the mourning crowd) Rose from his feat, and thus he spake aloud.

"Ceafe your lamentings, Trojans! for awhile, "And fell down trees to build a fun'ral pile; "Fear not an ambush by the Grecians laid, "For with Achilles twelve days' truce I made."

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He fpake, and all obey'd as with one mind; Chariots were brought, and mules and oxen join'd; Forth from the city all the people went,

Aud nine days' fpace was in that labour spent; 150
The tenth a moft ftupendous pile they made,
And on the top the manly Hector laid,

Then gave it fire; while all with weeping eyes
Beheld the rolling flames and smoke arise.

All night they wept, and all the night it burn'd; 155
But when the rofy Morn with day return'd,
About the pile the thronging people came,

160

And with black wine quench'd the remaining flame.
His brothers then, and friends, fearch'd every where,
And gath'ring up his fnowy bones with care,
Wept o'er 'em; when an urn of gold was brought,
Wrapt in foft purple palls, and richly wrought,
In which the facred afhes were interr'd,

Then o'er his grave a monument they rear'd. [fpies,
Mean-time frong guards were plac'd, and careful
To watch the Grecians, and prevent furprise.
The work once ended, all the vast refort

Of mourning people went to Priam's court;
There they refresh'd their weary limbs with reft,
Ending the fun'ral with a folemn feast.

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HYMN TO VENUS:

TRANSLATED INTO ENGLISH VERSE.

TO THE READER

OF THE ENSUING HYMN.

Or the three greater hymns of Homer, viz. one to Apollo, one to Mercury, and one to Venus, this to Venus is the shortest ; it is also the most simple in its defign, and connected in its parts. The other two abound more in digreffions both geographical and mythological, and contain many allufions to ancient customs and hiftory, which, without a commentary, could not well be understood by the generality of readers. These confiderations determined me to acquiefce in the translation of this Hymn, though I had once entertained thoughts of turning them all three into English verse.

As I had often read them all with extraordinary pleasure, I could not avoid fometimes reflecting on the cenfures of fome grammarians, who have denied, or at least doubted them to be genuine.

A poem which is good in itself cannot really lose any thing of its value, though it fhould appear, upon a ftrict inquiry, not to be the work of fo eminent an author as him to whom it was first imputed; but all N