Pray to that God, who high on Ida's brow
Surveys thy defolated realms below,

His winged meffenger to fend from high,
And lead thy way with heavenly augury;
Let the frong fovereign of the plumy race
Tower on the right of yon ætherial space.
That fign beheld, and strengthen'd from above,
Boldly purfue the journey mark'd by Jove;
But if the God his augury denies,
Supprefs thy impulfe, nor reject advice,

366

Now twilight veil'd the glaring face of day,
360 And clad the dufky fields in fober gray;
What time the herald and the hoary king
(Their chariots ftopping at the filver spring, 430
That circling Ilus' ancient marble flows)
Allow'd their mules and feeds a fhort repofe.
Through the dim fhade the herald first efpics-
A man's approach, and thus to Priam cries;
1 mark fome foe's advance: O king! beware; 433
This hard adventure claims thy utmost care;
For, much I fear, destruction hovers nigh:
Our ftate afks counfel. Is it beft to fly?
Or, old and helplefs, at his feet to fall
(Two wretched fuppliants) and for mercy call?
Th' afflicted monarch faiver'd with defpair;
Pale grew his face, and upright stood his hair;
Sunk was his heart; his colour went and came;
A fudden trembling fhook his aged frame: [443
When Hermes, greeting, touch'd his royal hand,
And gently thus accofts with kind demand:

'Tis juft (faid Priam, to the Sire above)
To raile our hands; for who fo good as Jove? 370
He spoke, and bade th' attendant handmaid bring
The pureft water of the living spring
(Her ready hands the ewer and bafon held);
Then took the golden cup his queen had fill'd;
On the mid pavement pours the rofy wine, 375
Uplifts his eyes, and calls the Power divine:
Oh firft, and greateft! Heaven's imperial Lord!
On lofty Ida's holy hill ador'd!

1440

Say whither, father! when each mortal fight 380 Is feal'd in fleep, thou` wander'ft through the night?

395

Why roam thy mules and steeds the plains along,
Through Grecian foes, fo numerous and fo ftrong?
What could't thou hope, should these thy trea
fures view;

451

455

Thy words, that speak benevolence of mind,
Are true, my fon! (the godlike fire rejoin'd) 460
Great are my hazards; but the Gods furvey
My feps, and fend thee, guardian of my way.
Hail, and be bleft! for fcarce of mortai kind
Appear thy form, thy feature, and thy mind.

1 To flern Achilles now direct my ways,
And teach him mercy when a father prays.
If fuch thy will, difpatch from yonder sky
Thy facred bird, celeftial augury!
Let the ftrong fovereign of the plumy race
Tower on the right of yon ætherial face:
So fhall thy fuppliant, ftrengthen'd from above,
Fearless pursue the journey mark'd by Jove, 386 | Thefe, who with endlefs hate thy race pursue ?
Jove heard his prayer, and from the throne on For what defence, alas could't thou provide;
Ditpatch'd his bird, celeftial augury! [high| Thyfelf not young, a weak old man thy guide?
The fwift-wing'd chacer of the feather'd game, Yet fuffer not thy foul to fink with dread:
And known to Gods by Percnos' lofty name. 390 From me no harm fhall touch thy reverend head;
Wide as appears fome palace-gate difplay'd, From Greece I'll guard thee too; for in thofe lines
So broad, his pinions ftretch'd their ample thade, The living image of my father fhines.
As flooping dexter with refounding wings
Th'imperial bird defcends in airy rings.
A dawn of joy in every face appears;
The mourning matron dries her timorous tears;
Swift on his car th' impatient monarch sprung;
The brazen portal in his paffage rung.
The mules preceding draw the loaded wain,
Charg'd with the gifts: Idæus holds the rein : 400
The king himfelf his gentle feeds controls,
And through furrounding friends the chariot rolls.
On his flow wheels the following people wait,
Mourn at each step, and give him up to Fate;
With hands uplifted, eye him as he past,
And gaz'd upon him as they gaz'd their last.
Now forward fares the father on his way,
Through the lone fields, and back to Ilion they.
Great Jove beheld him as he croft the plain,
And felt the woes of miferable man.
Then thus to Hermes: Thou whofe conftant cares
Still fuccour mortals, and attend their prayers;
Behold an object to thy charge confign'd:
If ever pity touch'd thee for mankind,
Go, guard the fire; th' obferving foc prevent, 415
And fafe conduct him to Achilles' tent.

405

410

The God obeys, his golden pinions binds,
And mounts incumbent on the wings of winds,
That high, through fields of air, his flight fuftain,
O'er the wide earth, and o'er the boundless main:
Then grafps the wand that caufes fleep to fly, 421
Or in foft flumbers feals the wakeful eye;
Thus arm'd, fwift Hermes ficers his airy way,
And floops on Hellefpont's refounding fea.
A beauteous youth, majeftic and divine,
He feem'd; fair offspring of fome princely line!

425

Nor true are all thy words, nor erring wide 465
The facred messenger of Heaven reply'd);
But fay, convey'st thou through the lonely plains
What yet most precious of thy ftore remains,
To lodge in fafety with fome friendly hand:
Prepar'd perchance, to leave thy native land! 470
Or fly't thou now?-What hopes can Troy re-
tain ;

Thy matchlefs fon, her guard and glory, flain?
The king, alarm'd Say what, and whence
thou art,

Who fearch the forrows of a parent's heart,
And know fo well how godlike Hector dy'd? 475
Thus Priam fpoke, and Hermes thus reply'd:

You tempt me, father, and with pity touch:
On this fad fubject you enquire too much.
Oft have thefe eyes that godlike Hector view'd
In glorious fight, with Grecian blood embrued:
I faw him when, like Jove, his flames he toft 481
On thousand hips, and wither'd half an hoft;
Ifaw, but help'd not: ftern Achilles' ire
Forbadé affiftance, and enjoy`d the fire.
For him I ferve, of Myrmidonian race;
One fhip convey'd us from our native place;
Polyctor is my fire, an honour'd name,
Old like thyfelf, and not unknown to fame
Of feven his fons, by whom the lot was caft
To ferve our prince, it fell on me, the laît. 499

485

495

To watch this quarter my adventure falls :
For with the morn the Greeks attack your
walls :
Sleepless they fit, impatient to engage,
And fearce their rulers check their martial rage.
If then thou art of flern Pelides' train
(The mournful monarch thus rejoin'd again)
Ah, tell me truly, where, oh! where are laid
My fon's dear relicks? what befalls him dead?
Have dogs difmember'd (on the naked plains)
Or yet unmangled reft his cold remains?

500

O favour'd of the Skies! thus anfwer'd then
The Power that mediates between Gods and men)
Nor dogs nor vultures have thy Hector rent,
But whole he lies, negl in the tent;
This the twelfth evening tince he refted there, 505
Untouch'd by worms, untainted by the air.
Still as Aurora's ruddy beam is fpread,
Round his friend's tomb Achilles drags the dead:
Yet undisfigur'd, or in limb or face,
All fresh he lies, with every living grace,
Majestical in death! No ftains are found
O'er all the corpfe, and clos'd is every wound;
Though many a wound they gave. Some heavenly

care,

Some hand divine, preferves him ever fair:
Or all the host of heaven, to whom he led
A life fo grateful, ftill regard him dead.

Thus fpoke to Priam the celeftial guide!
And joyful thus the royal fire reply'd:
Bleft is the man who pays the Gods above
The conftant tribute of refpect and love;
Those who inhabit the Olympian bower
My fon forgot not, in exalted power;
And Heaven, that every virtue bears in mind,
Ev'n to the ashes of the juft, is kind.

510

515

$80

Thus having faid, he vanish'd from his eyes,
And in a moment fhot into the skies:
$75
The king, confirm'd from Heaven, alighted there,
And left his aged herald on the car.
With folemn pace through various rodnis he went,
And found Achilles in his inner tent:
There fate the hero; Alcimus the brave,
And great Automedon, attendance gave:
Thefe ferv'd his perfon at the royal feath:
Around, at awful distance, stood the rett.
Unfeen by thefe, the king his entry made;
520 And, proftrate now before Achilles laid,
Sudden (a vencrable fight) appears;
Embrac'd his knees, and bath'd his hands in tears;
Thofe direful hands his kiffes prefs'd, embrued
Ev'n with the best, the deareft of his blood!

But thou, oh generous youth! this goblet take, 525
A pledge of gratitude, for Hector's fake;
And, while the favouring Gods our steps furvey,
Safe to Pelides' tent conduct my way.

530

To whom the latent God: O King, forbear
To tempt my youth, for apt is youth to err
But can I, abfent from my prince's fight,
Take gifts in fecret, that must fhun the light?
What from our master's interest thus we draw,
Is but a licens'd theft that 'fcapes the law.
Respecting him, my foul abjures th' offence; 535
And, as the crime, I dread the confequence.
Thee, far as Argos, pleas'd I could convey;
Guard of thy life, and partner of thy way:
On thee attend, thy fafety to maintain,
O'er pathless forefts, or the roaring main.

540

He said, then took the chariot at the bound,
And snatch'd the reins, and whirl'd the lash around!
Before th' infpiring God, that urg'd' them on,
The courfers fly, with spirit not their own. [545
And now they reach'd the naval walls, and found
The guards repafting, while the bowls go round:
On these the virtue of his wand he tries,
And pours deep flumber on their watchful eyes:
Then heav'd the maffy gates, remov'd the bars,
And o'er the trenches led the rolling cars.
Unseen, through all the hoftile camp they went,
And now approach'd Pelides' lofty tent.
Of fir the roof was rais'd, and cover'd o'er
With reeds collected from the marshy shore;
And, fenc'd with palifades, a hall of state,
(The work of foldiers) where the hero fate.

550

555

Ah think, thou favour'd of the Powers divine!
Think of thy father's age, and pity mine!
In me, that father's reverend image trace,
Thofe filver hairs, that venerable face;
His trembling limbs, his helpless perfon, fee!
In all my equal, but in mifery!

619

Yet now, perhaps, fome turn of human fate
Expels him helpless from his peaceful states 6ος
Think, from fome powerful for thou fee'ft him fly,
And beg protection with a feeble cry.
Yet ftill one comfort in his foul may rife;
He hears his fon still lives to glad his eyes;
And, hearing, ftill may hope a better day
May fend him thee, to chafe that foe away.
No comfort to my griefs, no hopes, remain :
The beft, the braveft, of my fons are flain!
Yet what a race! ere Greece to Ilion came,
The pledge of many a lov'd and loving dame! 615
Nineteen one mother bore-Dead, all are dead!
How oft, alas! has wretched Priam bled!
Still one was left, their loss to recompenfe:
His father's hope, his country's last defence.
Him too thy rage has flain! beneath thy steel,6,0
Unhappy, in his country's cause he fell i

805

810

With that, Achilles bade prepare the bed,
With purple foft, and fhaggy carpets spread;
Forth, by the flaming lights, they bend their way,
And place the couches, and the coverings lay. 815
Then he: Now, father, fleep, but fleep not here;
Confult thy fafety, and forgive my fear;
Left any Argive (at this hour awake,
To afk our counsel, or our orders take)
Approaching fudden to our open tent,
Perchance behold thee, and our grace prevent.
Should fuch report thy honour'd perfon here,
The king of men the ranfom might defer;
But fay with fpeed, if aught of thy defire

820

Remains unafk'd; what time the rites require 825 And there had figh'd and forrow'd out the day :

1895

But godlike Priam from the chariot rose;
Forhear the cry'd) this violence of woes,
First to the palace let the car proceed,
Then pour your boundlefs forrows o'er the dead.
The waves of people at his word divide,
Slow rolls the chariot through the following tide;
Ev'n to the palace the fad pomp they wait;
They weep, and place him on the bed of ftate.
A melancholy choir attend around,
With plaintive fighs, and mufic's folemn found:
Alternately they fing, alternate flow
Th' obedient tears, melodious in their wee.
While deeper forrows groan from each full heart,
And nature speaks at every pause of art.

905

First to the corpse the weeping confort flew;
Around his neck her milk-white arms fhe threw,
And, oh, my Hector! oh, my lord! The cries,
Snatch'd in thy bloom from these defiring eyes!
Thou to the difmal realms for ever gone!

- And i abandon'd, defolate, alone!
An only fon, once comfort of our pains,
Sad product now of hapless love, remains!
Never to manly age that son shall rife,

Rofy and fair, as Phoebus' filver bow
Difmifs'd thee gently to the fhades below!

950

Thus fpoke the dame, and melted into tears
Sad Helen next, in pomp of grief appears:
Faft from the fhining fluices of her eyes
Fall the round crystal drops, while thus fhe cries
Ah, dearest friend! in whom the Gods had
join'd

The mildest manners with the bravest mind;
Now twice ten years funhappy years!) are o'er
Since Paris brought me to the Trojan thore; 965
(O had I perifh'd ere that form divine
Seduc'd this foft, this eafy beart of mine!)
Yet was it ne'er my fate, from thee to find
A deed ungentle, or a word unkind:
When others curft the authorefs of their woe, 970
Thy pity check'd my forrows in their flow;
If fome proud brother ey'd me with difdain,
Or fcornful fifter with her fweeping train;
Thy gentle accents foften'd all my pain.
For thee I mourn; and mours myfelf in thee, 975
The wretched fource of all this mifery!
The fate I caus'd, for ever I bemoan;
915 Sad Helen has no friend, now thou art gone!
Through Troy's wide flreets abandon'd, shall, I
roam!

910

925

Or with encreafing graces glad mine eyes;
For llion now (her great defender flain)
Shall fink a fmoking ruin on the plain.
Who now protects her wives with guardian care?
Who faves her infants from the rage of war?
New hoftile fleets must waft thofe infants o'er 920
(Those wives must wait them) to a foreign fhore!
Thou too, my fon! to barbarous climes halt go,
The fad companions of thy mother's woe: -
Driven hence a flave before the viЯor's sword;
Condemn'd to toil for fome inhuman lord:
Or else fome Greek, whofe father preft the plain,
Or fon, or brother, by great Hector flain;
In Hector's blood his vengeance hall enjoy,
And hurl thee headlong from the towers of Troy.
For thy ftern father never spar'd a foe:
Thence all these tears, and all this fcene of woe!
Thence many evils his fad parents bore,
His parents many, but his confort more.
Why gav'ft thou not to me thy dying hand?
And why receiv'd not I thy last command? 935
Some word thou would't have spoke, which, fadly
My foul might keep, or utter with a tear;
Which never, never, could be loft in air,
Fix'd in my heart, and oft repeated there!
Thus to her weeping maids the makes her
940

moan:

935

[dear,

Her weeping handmaids echo groan for groan.

The mournful mother next fuftains her part:
Ch, thou, the best, the dearest to my heart!
Of all my race thou most by Heaven approv'd,
And by th' Immortals ev'n in death belov'd! 945
While all my other fons in barbarous bands
Achilles bound, and fold to foreign lands,
This felt no chains, but went a glorious ghost,
Free and a hero, to the Stygian coaft.
Sentenc'd, 'tis true, by his inhuman doom,
Thy noble corpfe was dragg'd around the tomb
(The tomb of him thy warlike arm had flain);
Ungenerous infult, impotent and vain!

950

Yet glow't thou fresh with every living grace;
No mark of pain, er violence of face;

955

In Troy deferted, as abhorr'd at home!

980
So fpoke the fair, with forrow-ftreaming eye:
Distressful beauty melts each stander-by;
On all around th' infectious forrow grows;
But Priam check'd the torrent as it rofe :-
Perform, ye Trojans! what the rites require, 985
And fell the forefts for a funeral pyre;
Iwelve days, nor foe, nor fecret ambush dread;
Achilles grants these honours to the dead.

He spoke; and, at his word, the Trojan train
Their mules and oxen harness to the wain,
Pour through the gates, and, fell'd from Ida's

crown,

990

1000

Roll back the gather'd forefts to the town,
Thefe toils continue nine fucceeding days,
And high in air a fylvan ftru&ture raife;
But when the tenth fair morn began to fhine,995
Forth to the pile was borne the man divine,
And plac'd aloft: while all, with ftreaming eyes,
Beheld the flames and rolling fmokes arife.
Soon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn,
With rofy luftre freak'd the dewy lawn.
Again the mournful crowds furround the pyre,
And quench with wine the yet-remaining fire.
The fnowy bones his friends and brothers place
(With tears collected) in a golden vafe;
The golden vafe in purple palls they roll'd, 1005
Of fofteft texture, and inwrought with gold.
Laft o'er the urn the facred earth they spread,
And rais'd the tomb, memorial of the dead.
(Strong guards and fpies, till all the rites were
done

Watch'd from the rifing to the fetting fun). 1010
All Troy then moves to Priam's court again,
A folemn, filent, melancholy train:
Affembled there, from pious toil they reft,
And fadly fhar'd the laft fepulchral feaft.
Such honours llion to her hero paid,
And peaceful flept the mighty Hector's shade,

TOIS