Strife and debate thy restless soul employ,
And wars and horrors are thy savage joy.
If thou hast strength, 'twas heav'n that strength
bestow'd;
For know, vain man, thy valour is from God.
Haste, launch thy vessels, fly with speed away,
Rule thy own realms with arbitrary sway:
I heed thee not, but prize at equal rate,
Thy short-liv'd friendship, and thy groundless
hate.
Go! threat thy earth-born Myrmidons; but here
'Tis mine to threaten, prince, and thine to fear.
Know if the god the beauteous dame demand,
My bark shall waft her to her native land;
But then prepare, imperious prince! prepare,
Fierce as thou art, to yield thy captive fair;
E'en in thy tent I'll seize the blooming prize,
Thy lov'd Brise ïs, with the radiant eyes.
He said, observant of the blue-eyed maid;
Then in the sheath return'd the shining blade.
The goddess swift to high Olympus flies,
And joins the sacred senate of the skies.
Nor yet the rage his boiling heart forsook,
Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke:
O monster! mix'd of insolence and fear,
Thou dog in forehead, but in heart a deer!
When wert thou known in ambush'd fights to
dare,
Or nobly face the horrid front of war?
'Tis ours the chance of fighting fields to try,
Thine to look on and bid the valiant die.
So much 'tis safer through the camp to go,
And rob a subject, than despoil a foe.
Scourge of thy people, violent and base!
Sent in Jove's anger on a slavish race,
Who, lost to sense of generous freedom past,
Hence shalt thou prove my might, and curse the Are tamed to wrongs, or this had been thy last.
Thou stood'st a rival of imperial power;
And hence to all our host it shall be known,
That kings are subject to the gods alone.
Achilles heard, with grief and rage oppress'd His heart swell'd high, and labour'd in his breast,
Distracting thoughts by turns his bosom ruled,
Now fired by wrath, and now by reason cooled:
That prompts his hand to draw the deadly sword,
Force through the Greeks, and pierce their
haughty lord;
This whispers soft, his vengeance to control,
And calm the rising tempest of his soul.
Just as in anguish of suspense he stay'd,
While half unsheath'd appear'd the glittering
blade,
Minerva swift descended from above,
Sent by the sister and the wife of Jove;
(For both the princes claim'd her equal care,)
Behind she stood, and by the golden hair
Achilles seized; to him alone confess'd;
A sable cloud conceal'd her from the rest.
He sees, and sudden to the goddess cries,
Known by the flames that sparkle from her eyes.
Descends Minerva in her guardian care,
A heavenly witness of the wrongs I bear
From Atreus' son! then let those eyes that view
The daring crime, behold the vengeance too.
Forbear! (the progeny of Jove replies,)
To calm thy fury I forsake the skies;
Let great Achilles, to the gods resign'd,
To reason yield the empire o'er his mind.
By awful Juno this command is given;
The king and you are both the care of heaven.
The force of keen reproaches let him feel,
But sheath obedient, thy revenging steel.
For I pronounce (and trust a heavenly power,)
Thy injured honour has its fated hour,
When the proud monarch shall thy arms implore,
And bribe thy friendship with a boundless store.
Then let revenge no longer bear the sway,
Command thy passions, and the gods obey.
To her Pelides. With regardful ear,
'Tis just, O goddess! I thy dictates hear:
Hard as it is, my vengeance I suppress:
Those who revere the gods, the gods will bless.
Now by this sacred sceptre hear me swear,
Which never more shall leaves or blossoms bear,
Which sever'd from the trunk, (as I from thee,)
On the bare mountains left its parent tree;
This sceptre, form'd by temper'd steel, to prove
An ensign of the delegates of Jove,
From whom the power of laws and justice
springs
(Tremendous oath! inviolate to kings):
By this I swear, when bleeding Greece again
Shall call Achilles, she shall call in vain.
When, flush'd with slaughter, Hector comes to
spread,
The purpled shore with mountains of the dead, Then shalt thou mourn th' affront thy madness gave,
Forc'd to deplore, when impotent to save:
Then rage in bitterness of soul, to know
This act has made the bravest Greek thy foe.
He spoke, and furious hurl'd against the
His sceptre starr'd with golden studs around.
Then sternly silent sat. With like disdain
The raging king return'd his frowns again.
To calm their passions with the words of age,
Slow from his seat arose the Pylian sage,
Experienc'd Nestor, in persuasion skill'd,
Words sweet as honey from his lips distill'd;
Two generations now had pass'd away,
Wise by his rules, and happy by his sway,
Two ages o'er his native realm he reign'd,
And now the example of the third remain'd.
All view'd with awe the venerable man;
Who thus with mild benevolence began:
What shame, what woe is this to Greece!
what joy
To Troy's proud monarch, and the friends of
Troy!
That adverse gods commit to stern debate,
The best, the bravest of the Grecian state.
Young as ye are this youthful heat restrain,
Nor think your Nestor's years and wisdom
A godlike race of heroes once I knew,
Such as no more these aged eyes shall view! Lives there a chief to match Pirithous' fame, Dryas the bold, or Ceneus' deathless name;
He, deeply sighing, said: To tell my woe,
Is but to mention what too well you know.
But goddess! thou thy suppliant son attend,
To high Olympus' shining court ascend,
Urge all the ties to former service ow'd,
And sue for vengeance to the thundering god.
Conjure him far to drive the Grecian train,
To hurl them headlong to their fleet and main-
To heap the shores with copious death, and bring
The Greeks to know the curse of such a king:
Let Agamemnon lift his haughty head,
O'er all his wide dominion of the dead,
And mourn in blood, that e'er he durst disgrace
The boldest warrior of the Grecian race.
Unhappy son! (fair Thetis thus replies,
While tears celestial trickle from her eyes)
Why have I borne thee with a mother's throes,
To fates averse,
and nurs'd for future woes?
So short a space the light of heaven to view!
So short a space! and fill'd with sorrow too!
O might a careful parent's wish prevail,
Far, far from Ilion should thy vessels sail :
And thou, from camps remote the danger shun
Which now, alas! too nearly threats my son.
Yet (what I can) to move thy suit I'll go
To great Olympus, crown'd with fleecy snow.
Meantime, secure within thy ships, from far
Behold the field, nor mingle in the war.
The sire of gods, and all th' ethereal train,
On the warm limits of the farthest main,
Now mix with mortals, nor disdain to grace
The feasts of Ethiopia's blameless race;
Twelve days the powers indulge the genial rite,
Returning with the twelfth revolving light.
Then will I mount the brazen dome, and move
The high tribunal of immortal Jove.
The goddess spoke: the rolling waves unclose;
Then down the deep she plunged, from whence
And left him sorrowing on the lonely coast,
In wild resentment for the fair he lost.
In Chrysa's port now sage Ulysses rode;
Beneath the deck the destin'd victims stow'd;
The sails they furl'd, they lash'd the masts aside
And dropp'd their anchors, and the pinnace
tied.
Next on the shore their hecatomb they land,
Chryseïs last descending on the strand.
Her, thus returning from the furrow'd main,
Ulysses led to Phœbus' sacred fane;
Where at his solemn altar, as the maid
He gave to Chryses, thus the hero said:
God of the silver bow! thy ear incline,
Whose pow'r encircles Cilla the divine,
Whose sacred eye thy Tenedos surveys,
And gilds fair Chrysa with distinguish'd rays!
If, fir'd to vengeance at thy priest's request,
Thy direful darts inflict the raging pest,
Once more attend! avert the wasteful woe,
And smile propitious, and unbend thy bow.
So Chryses pray'd; Apollo heard his prayer.
'Twas night; the chiefs beside their vessel lie
Till rosy morn had purpled o'er the sky;
Then launch, and hoist the mast; indulgent gales,
Supplied by Phœbus, fill the swelling sails:
The milk-white canvass bellying as they blow,
The parted ocean foams and roars below:
Above the bounding billows swift they flew,
Till now the Grecian camp appear'd in view.
Far on the beach they haul their bark to land,
(The crooked keel divides the yellow sand,)
Then part, where stretch'd along the winding bay,
The ships and tents in mingled prospect lay.
But raging still, amidst his navy sate
The stern Achilles, steadfast in his hate;
Nor mix'd in combat, nor in council join'd;
But wasting cares lay heavy on his mind:
In his black thoughts revenge and slaughter roll,
And scenes of blood rise dreadful in his soul.
Twelve days were past, and now the dawn-
ing light
The gods had summon'd to th' Olympian height:
Jove first ascending from the watery bowers,
Leads the long order of ethereal powers.
When like the morning mist in early day,
Rose from the flood, the daughter of the sea;
And to the seats divine her flight addrest.
There far apart, and high above the rest,
The Thunderer sat: where old Olympus shrouds
His hundred heads in heaven, and props the clouds,
Suppliant the goddess stood: one hand she plac'd
Beneath his beard, and one his knees embrac'd.
If e'er, O father of the gods! she said,
My words could please thee, or my actions aid,
Some marks of honour on my son bestow,
And pay in glory what in life you owe.
Fame is at least by heav'nly promise due
To life so short, and now dishonour'd too.
Avenge this wrong, O ever just and wise!
Let Greece be humbled, and the Trojans rise;
Till the proud king, and all th' Achaian race,
Shall heap with honours him they now disgrace.
Thus Thetis spoke: but Jove in silence held
Hail, rev'rend priest! to Phobus' awful dome The sacred counsels of his breast conceal'd.
A suppliant I from great Atrides come;
Unransom'd here receive the spotless fair;
Accept the hecatomb the Greeks prepare;
And may thy god who scatters darts around,
Aton'd by sacrifice, desist to wound.
At this the sire embrac'd the maid again,
So sadly lost, so lately sought in vain.
Then near the altar of the darting king,
Dispos'd in rank their hecatomb they bring;
With water purify their hands, and take
The sacred offering of the salted cake:
While thus with arms devoutly rais'd in air,
And solemn voice, the priest directs his prayer.
Not so repuls'd, the goddess closer prest,
Still grasp'd his knees, and urg'd the dear request.
O sire of gods and men! thy suppliant hear;
Refuse, or grant, for what has Jove to fear?
Or, oh! declare, of all the powers above,
Is wretched Thetis least the care of Jove?
She said: and sighing, thus the god replies,
Who rolls the thunder o'er the vaulted skies:
What hast thou ask'd? Ah why should Jove
In foreign contests, and domestic rage,
The gods' complaints, and Juno's fierce alarms,
While I, too partial, aid the Trojan arms?
Go, lest the haughty partner of my sway
With jealous eyes thy close access survey;
But part in peace, secure thy prayer is sped;
Witness the sacred honours of our head,
The nod that ratifies the will divine,
The faithful, fix'd, irrevocable, sign:
This seals thy suit, and this fulfils thy vows.-
He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows;
Shakes his ambrosial curls, and gives the nod,
The stamp of fate, and sanction of the god:
High heaven with trembling the dread signal took,
And all Olympus to the centre shook.
ULYSSES AND THERSITES.
The Greeks, in despair of taking Troy, resolve on return
Some, whom this conquering arm shall captive
Or other Argive doomed for thee to bleed?
Seek'st thou a fresher fair to yield delight,
Hid in thy tent apart from public sight?
For ill beseems the guardian of our host,
By vile example, to corrupt us most.
Oh, Argive women! Argive men no more:
Let the fleet speed us to our native shore;
Leave him unsated here, though gorg'd with
spoil,
To learn if gained or not by Grecian toil.
His was the outrage, he Pelides shamed,
A warrior far o'er him in valour famed:
His now the vaunt to guard Briseïs' charms,
Reft by his rapine from that hero's arms!
A hero?-no! fear chains Achilles' force,
ing home, but are detained by the management of Or this last deed had closed thy shameful Ulysses.
The scoffer ceased-with stern, contemptuous eyes,
Ulysses viewed the wretch, and thus replies: "Peace, factious monster, born to vex the state, With wrangling talents formed for foul debate;
Him with reproof he check'd, or tam'd with Nor strive with monarchs! Thou of all our host,
"Silence, base slave! and to thy betters yield,
Dolt, as thou art, in council and in field!
All cannot rule, and, least of all allow'd,
That worst of tyrants, an usurping crowd,
To one sole monarch Jove commits the sway;
His are the laws, and let us all obey."
The man who acts the least, and vaunts the
Think not to shameful flight the Greeks to bring,
Nor let those lips profane the name of king.
For our return we trust to heavenly powers;
Be that their care; to fight like men be ours.
But grant the host with wealth their general load,
With words like these, the troops Ulysses Except detraction, what hast thou bestow'd?
The loudest silenced, and the fiercest cooled,-
All but Thersites; he, above the throng,
Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue;
Awed by no shame, by no respect controll'd,
In scandal busy, in reproaches bold;
With witty malice studious to defame,
Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim;
But chief he gloried, with licentious style,
To lash the great, and monarchs to revile.
His figure such as might his soul proclaim;
One eye was blinking, and one leg was lame;
The gibbous load, that either shoulder prest,
To close contraction pinch'd his pointed breast;
And on his sharp convexity of head,
But mark my word, nor think the warning vain;
If here I find thee, raving thus again,
Low lie my brow!-May I at once expire,
And loved Telemachus disown his sire,
If stript and scourged, and writhing in thy pain,
I drive thee not back howling to the main."
He said; and, writhing as the dastard bends,
The weighty sceptre on his back descends;
On his round bunch the bloody tumours rise,
While tears spring starting from his haggard eyes;
Trembling he sat, and, shrunk in abject fears,
From his foul visage wiped the scalding tears.
The host, though grieved, his moans with laugh-
ter heard;
While burst from lip to lip the scornful word :—
Stray hairs, like wool, were here and there out- "Great deeds and oft Laertes' son has wrought,
Spleen to mankind his envious heart possest,
And much he hated all, but most, the best.
Ulysses or Achilles still his theme;
But royal scandal his delight supreme.
Long had he lived, the scorn of every Greek,
Vext when he spoke, yet still they heard him
Sharp was his voice; which, in the shrillest tone,
Thus with injurious taunts attacked the throne:
"Amidst the glories of so bright a reign,
What moves the great Atrides to complain?
Selected beauties, each a city's pride,
We, by our valour, for thy choice provide.
To war renown, to council wisdom, brought;
But this far all transcends; the scoffer's jest,
And base garrulity, at once represt.
Such just examples, on offenders shown,
Sedition silence and assert the throne."
HELEN, WITH PRIAM AND THE ELDERS, BEFORE THE SCEAN-GATE.
SHE spake; and sweet desire moved Helen's mind,
Deep-touched by all her folly had resign'd,
Or seek'st thou gold? more gold, those heaps to The lord, whom once her virgin arms carest,
Which for his ransom'd sons the Trojan pays?
The roof that rear'd her, and the hearth that
She rose, her snowy veil around her spread,
And tears of tenderness beneath it shed;
Then onward pass'd and sought the Scæan-gate,
Where sate the elders of the Trojan state;
Chiefs, who no more in bloody fights engage,
But wise through time, and narrative with age,
Like grasshoppers, that in the woods rejoice,
Or send from summer bowers their slender voice.
These, when the Spartan queen approach'd the
tower,
In secret own'd resistless beauty's power:
They cried, "No wonder such celestial charms
For nine long years have set the world in arms;
What winning graces! what majestic mien!
See moves a goddess, and she looks a queen!
Yet hence, oh heaven! convey that fatal face,
And from destruction save the Trojan race."
The good old Priam welcomed her and cried,
"Approach, my child, and grace thy father's side; |
No crime of thine our present suffering draws,
Not thou, but heaven's disposing will, the cause.
The gods these armies and this force employ,
The hostile gods conspire the fate of Troy.
Now lift thine eyes, and say what Greek is he
(Far as from hence these aged eyes can see)
Around whose brow such martial graces shine,
So tall, so awful, and almost divine?
Though some of loftier stature tread the green,
None match his grandeur and exalted mien;
He seems a monarch, and his country's pride."
Thus ceased the king, and thus the fair replied:
"Before thy presence, father, I appear
With conscious shame, and reverential fear.
Ah, had I died, ere to these walls I fled,
False to my country and my nuptial bed,
My brothers, friends, and daughter, left behind,
False to them all, to Paris only kind!
All, all alas! I left-hence ever flow
Tears that consume my soul with hopeless woe.
Yet hear what thou requir'st:-that form, that air,
Great Agamemnon, Atreus' son declare,
A king, a warrior, scarce surpass'd in fame;
Ah, once I knew him by a brother's name!"
With wonder Priam viewed the godlike man,
Extolled the happy prince, and then began
"O blest Atrides! born to prosperous fate,
Successful monarch of a mighty state;
How vast thy empire; of yon matchless train
What numbers lost, what numbers yet remain!"
This said; his eyes next on Ulysses light,
"And who is he, inferior far in height,
Yet ampler shoulder'd and of broader breast,
Yon chief, whose arms on earth now peaceful
rest?"
When Atreus' son harangued the listening train
Just was his sense, and his expression plain;
His words succinct, yet full; without a fault;
He spoke no more than just the thing he ought.
But when Ulysses rose, in thought profound,
His modest eyes he fixed upon the ground
As one unskilled or dumb, he seemed to stand;
Nor raised his head, nor stretched his sceptred
hand;
But when he gave his voice its force and flow,
Soft fell his words like flakes of feathery snow.
All felt his matchless power, all caught his
flame,
Nor paused to wonder at his outward frame."
Again hoar Priam spoke, the while his sight,
Rested on Ajax, towering in his height:
"Say who yon chief, conspicuous o'er the rest
For stateliness of size and breadth of breast?"
"Ajax the great,” (the beauteous queen replied,)
Himself a host, the Grecian strength and pride.
And see, Idomeneus, by Crete ador'd,
And how the Cretans gather round their lord.
Great as a god! I've seen him oft before,
With Menelaus on the Spartan shore.
The rest I know and could in order name,
All valiant chiefs and men of mighty fame;
But where-oh, where 's equestrian Castor's
might,
Where Pollux, matchless in the cæstus-fight?
My brothers they; the same our native shore,
One house contained us, as one mother bore.
Perhaps the chiefs, from warlike toils at ease,
For distant Troy refused to sail the seas;
Perhaps their swords some nobler quarrel
draws,
Ashamed to combat in their sister's cause."
So spoke the Fair, nor knew her brothers' doom,
Wrapped in the cold embraces of the tomb,
Adorned with honours on their native shore,
Silent they slept, and heard of wars no more.
FAR as a shepherd from some point on high,
O'er the wide main extends his boundless eye,
Through such a space of air, with thundering
sound,
At every leap the immortal coursers bound.
MINERVA ARMING HERSELF FOR BATTLE.* BUT the stern daughter of all-mighty Jove
Then Helen thus: "Whom your discerning eyes Cast off the veil her and had finely wove,
Have singled out, is Ithacus the wise;
Mid Ithaca's bleak mountains born and bred,
Yet keen in counsel and of craftiest head."
Her wise Antenor answered: "Well my word
Bears witness of the truth from Helen heard.
When here their steps, for thee by Hellas' sent,
Brave Menelaus and Ulysses bent,
I knew their persons and admired their parts,
Both brave in arms, and both approved in arts.
Erect, the Spartan most engaged our view,
Ulysses, seated, greater reverence drew;
Whose spreading folds around her girdle flow'd
On the starr'd pavement of th' Olympian god.
Then, mail'd for ruthless battle, firmly brac'd
The corslet that the cloud-compeller grac'd.
The snake-fring'd Ægis round her shoulder drew,
Where Terror, wreath'd throughout, came forth
to view,
* According to Eustathius, the ancient critics marked these verses (in the original) with an asterisk, to denote their beauty.
|