And I, who late th' embattled Greeks could dare,
Their flying darts, and whole embody'd war,
Now take alarm, while horrors reign around,
Ate
t every breeze, and start at every found.
With fancy'd fears my bufy thoughts were wild:
For my dear father, and endanger'd child.
Now, to the city gates approaching near,
I feem the found of trampling feet to hear.
Alarm'd my fire look'd forward thro' the fhade,
And, Fly, my fon, they come, they come, he faid;
Lo! from their fhields I fee their fplendours ftream;
And ken diftinct the helmet's fiery gleam.
And here, fome envious god, in this difmay,
This fudden terror, snatch'd· my fenfe away?
For while o'er devious paths I wildly trod,
Studious to wander from the beaten road;
I loft my dearest Creufa, nor can tell
From that fad moment, if by fate she fell;
Or funk fatigu'd; or ftraggl'd from the train
But ah! fhe never bleft thefe eyes again!
Nor, till to Ceres? ancient wall we came,
Did I fufpect her loft, or mifs the dame.
There all the train affembled, all but she
Loft to her friends, her father, fon, and me.
What men, what gods did my wild fury spare?
At both I rav'd, and madden'd with despair.
In Troy's laft ruins did I ever know
A fcene fo cruel! Tuch tranfcendent woe!
Our gods, my fon, and father to the train
1 next commend, and hide them in the plain;
Then fly for Troy, and fhine in arms again.
Refolv'd the burning town to wander o'er,
And tempt the dangers that I 'ícap'd before.
Now to the gate I run with furious hafte,
Whence firft from Ilion to the plain. I paft:
Dart round my eyes in every place in vain,
And tread my former footsteps o'er again,
Surrounding horrors all my foul affright;
And more the dreadful filence of the night.
Next to my house I flew without delay,
If there, if haply there she bent her way.
In vain-the conquering foes had enter'd there;
High o'er the dome, the flames emblaze the air;
Fierce to devour, the fiery tempest flies,
Swells in the wind, and thunders to the skies.
Back to th' embattled citadel I ran,
And fearch'd her father's regal walls in vain,
Ulyffes now and Phoenix I furvey,
Who guard, in Juno's fane, the gather'd prey;
In one huge heap the Trojan wealth was roll'd,
Refulgent robes, and bowls of massy gold;
A pile of tables on the pavement nods,
Snatch'd from the blazing temples of the gods;
A mighty train of fhrieking mothers bound,
Stood with their captive children trembling round.
Yet more-I boldly raise my voice on high,
And in the fhade on dear Creusa cry ;
Call on her name a thousand times in vain,
But ftill repeat the darling name again,
THE PARTING OF HERTOR AND
ANDROMACHE.
SILENT the warrior fmil'd, and pleas'd refign'd.
To tender paffions all his mighty mind:
His beautious princefs caft a mournful look,
Hung on his hand, and then dejected spoke;
Her bofom labour'd with a boding figh,
And the big tear stood trembling in her eye,
Too daring prince! ah, whither doft thou run?
Ah, too forgetful of thy wife and fon!
And think'it thou not how wretched we fhall be,
A widow I, an hapless orphan be!
For fure fuch courage length of life denies,
And thou must fall, thy virtue's facrifice.
Greece in her fingle heroes ftrove in vain ;
Now hofts oppose thee, and thou must be slain !
Oh grant me, gods! ere Hector meets his doom,
All I can ask of Heaven, an early tomb!
So fhall my days in one sad tenor run,
And end with forrows as they first begun.
No parent now remains, my griefs to share,
No father's aid, no mother's tender care.
The fierce Achilles wrapt our walls in fire,
Laid Thebe waste, and flew my warlike fire!
His fate compaffion in the victor bred;
Stern as he was, he yet rever'd the dead,
His radiant arms preferv'd from hoftile spoil,
And laid him decent on the funeral pile;
Then rais'd a mountain where his bones were burn'd,
The mountain-nymphs the rural tomb adorn'd.
Jove's fylvan daughters bade their elms beftow
A barren fhade, and in his honour grow.
By the fame arm my seven brave brothers fell,
In one fad day beheld the gates of hell;
While the fat herds and fnowy flocks they fed,
Amid their fields the hapless heroes bled!
My mother liv'd to bear the victor's bands,
The queen of Hippoplacia's fylvan lands:
Redeem'd too late, fhe scarce beheld again
Her pleafing empire and her native plain,
When ah! oppreft by life-confuming woe,
She fell a victim to Diana's bow.
Yet while my Hector still survives, I fee
My father, mother, brethren, all, in thee.
Alas! my parents, brothers, kindred, all,
Once more will perish if my Hector fall.
Thy wife, thy infant, in thy danger share :
Oh prove a hulband's and a father's care!
That quarter most the skilful Greeks annoy,
Where yon wild fig-trees join the wall of Troy:
Thou, from this tower defend th' important poft;
There Agamemnon points his dreadful hoft,
That pafs Tidides, Ajax, ftrive to gain,
And there the vengeful Spartan fires his train.
Thrice our bold foes the fierce attack have given,
Or led by hopes, or dictated from Heaven.
Let others in the fields their arms employ,
But flay my Hector here, and guard his Troy.
The chief reply'd: that post shall be my care,
Nor that alone, but all the works of war.
How would the fons of Troy, in arms renown'd,
And Troy's proud dames, whofe garments sweep the
ground,
Attaint the luftre of my former name,
Should Hector bafely quit the field of fame!
My early youth was bred to martial pains,
My foul impels me to the embattled plains:
Let me be foremost to defend the throne,
And guard my father's glories, and my own.
Yet come it will, the day decreed by fates;
(How my heart trembles while my tongue relates!}
The day when thou, imperial Troy ! must bend,
And fee thy warriors fall, thy glories end.
And yet no dire prefage fo wounds my mind,
My mother's death, the ruin of my kind,
Not Priam's hoary hairs defil'd with gore,
Not all my brothers gasping on the shore;
As thine, Andromache! thy griefs I dread;
I fee thee trembling, weeping, captive led !
In Argive looms our battles to design,
And woes, of which so large a part was thine!
To bear the victor's hard commands, or bring
The weight of waters from Hyperia's fpring.
There, while you groan beneath the load of life,
They cry, behold the mighty Hector's wife!
Some haughty Greek, who lives thy tears to fee,
Embitters all thy woes, by naming me.
The thoughts of glory past, and present shame,
A thousand griefs shall waken at the name;
May I lie cold before that dreadful day,
Preft with a load of monumental clay !
Thy Hector, wrapt in everlasting sleep,
Shall neither hear thee figh, nor fee thee weep.
Thus having (poke, the illuftrious chief of Troy
Stretch'd his fond arms to clafp the lovely boy.
The babe clung crying to his nurse's breaft,
Scar'd at the dazzling helm, and nodding creft.
With fecret pleasure each fond parent fmil'd,
And Hector hafted to relieve his child,
The glittering terrors from his brows unbound,
And plac'd the beaming helmet on the ground.
Then kiss'd the child, and lifting high in air,
Thus to the gods prefer'd a father's prayer.
O thou, whose glory fills the ethereal throne,
And all ye deathlefs powers! protect my fon!
Grant him, like me, to purchase just renown,
To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown,
Against his country's foes the war to wage,
And rife the Hector of the future age!
So when triumphant from fuccessful toils,
Of heroes flain he bears the reeking spoils,
Whole hosts may hail him with deferv'd acclaim,
And fay, This chief transcends his father's fame :
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