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As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night!
O'er heaven's clear azure fpreads her facred light,
When not a breath disturbs the deep ferene,
And not a cloud o'ercafts the folemn fcene;
Around her throne the vivid planets roll,
And ftars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole;
O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed,
And tip with filver every mountain's head;
Then shine the vales, the rocks in profpect rise,
A flood of glory bursts from all the fkies:
The confcious fwains, rejoicing in the fight,
Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light:
So many flames before proud Ilion blaze,
And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their
The long reflections of the diftant fires

rays:

Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires.
A thousand piles the dufky horrours gild,

And shoot a fhady luftre o'er the field.

Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend,

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Whofe umber'd arms, by fits, thick flashes fend; 705
Loud neigh the courfers o'er their heaps of corn;
And ardent warriors wait the rifing morn.

THE

THE

NINTH.

BOOK

OF THE

I L 1 A D.

ARGUMENT.

The Embassy to Achilles.

Agamemnon, after the last day's defeat, propofes to the Greeks to quit the fiege, and return to their country. Diomed oppofes this; and Neftor feconds him, praifing his wifdom and refolution: he orders the guard to be ftrengthened, and a council fummoned to deliberate what measures are to be followed in this emergency. Agamemnon pursues this advice and Neftor farther prevails upon him to tend ambaffadors to Achilles, in order to move him to a reconciliation. Ulyffes and Ajax are made choice of, who are accompanied by old Phoenix. They make, each of them, very moving and preffing fpeeches; but are rejected, with roughness, by Achilles, who notwithstanding retains Phoenix in The ambaffadors return unfaccessfully to the camp; and the troops betake themselves to fleep.

his tent.

This book, and the next following, take up the fpace of one night, which is the twenty-feventh from the beginning of the poem. The fcene lies on the fea. hore, the ftation of the Grecian ships.

T

THE

1 LIA D.

BOOK IX.

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HUS joyful Troy maintain'd the watch of night; While fear, pale comrade of inglorious flight, And heaven-bred horrour, on the Grecian part, Sat on each face, and fadden'd every heart. As, from its cloudy dungeon iffuing forth, A double tempeft of the weft and north Swells o'er the fea, from Thracia's frozen fhore, Heaps waves on waves, and bids th' Ægean roar; This way and that, the boiling deeps are toft ; Such various paffions urge the troubled host. Great Agamemnon griev'd above the reft; Superior forrows fwell'd his royal breaft; Himfelf his orders to the heralds bears, To bid to council all the Grecian peers; But bid in whispers: these furround their chief, In folemn fadnefs, and majeftic grief. The king amidst the mournful circle rofe; Down his wan cheek a briny torrent flows : So filent fountains, from a rock's tall head, In fable streams foft-trickling waters shed. With more than vulgar grief he stood oppreft, Words, mixt with fighs, thus burfting from his 'breast;

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Ye

Ye fons of Greece! partake your leader's care;
Fellows in arms, and princes of the war!
Of partial Jove too juftly we complain,
And heavenly oracles believ'd in vain.
A fafe return was promis'd to our toils,
With conqueft honour'd, and enrich'd with spoils:
Now shameful flight alone can save the host;
Our wealth, our people, and our glory lost.
So Jove decrees. Almighty Lord of all!
Jove, at whofe nod whole empires rife or fall,
Who shakes the feeble props of human trust,
And towers and armies humbles to the duft.
Haste then, for ever quit these fatal fields,

Häfte to the joys our native country yields; .
Spread all your canvas, all your oars employ;
Nor hope the fall of heaven-defended Troy.

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He faid; deep filence held the Grecian band, Silent, unmov'd, in dire difmay they stand, A penfive scene! till Tydeus' warlike fon Roll'd on the king his eyes, and thus begun : When kings advise us to renounce our fame, First let him speak, who first has suffer'd shame. If I oppofe thee, prince, thy wrath with-hold, The laws of council bid my tongue be bold. Thou first, and thou alone, in fields of fight, Durft brand my courage, and defame my might: Nor from a friend th' unkind reproach appear'd, The Greeks ftood witnefs, all our army heard. The Gods, O chief! from whom our honours fpring, The Gods have made thee but by halves a king.

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