Page:Homer - Iliad, translation Pope, 1909.djvu/325

366—414 In strong convulsions panting on the sands

He lies, and grasps the dust with dying hands.

Struck at the sight, recede the Trojan train:

The shouting Argives strip the heroes slain.

And now had Troy, by Greece compelled to yield,

Fled to her ramparts, and resigned the field;

Greece, in her native fortitude elate,

With Jove averse, had turned the scale of fate;

But Phœbus urged Æneas to the fight;

He seemed like aged Periphas to sight,

A herald in Anchises' love grown old,

Revered for prudence, and, with prudence, bold.

Thus he: "What methods yet, O chief! remain,

To save your Troy, though heaven its fall ordain?

There have been heroes, who, by virtuous care,

By valour, numbers, and by arts of war,

Have forced the Powers to spare a sinking state,

And gained at length the glorious odds of fate.

But you, when fortune smiles, when Jove declares

His partial favour, and assists your wars,

Your shameful efforts 'gainst yourselves employ,

And force the unwilling god to ruin Troy."

Æneas, through the form assumed, descries

The Power concealed, and thus to Hector cries:

"Oh lasting shame! to our own fears a prey,

We seek our ramparts, and desert the day.

A god—nor is he less—my bosom warms,

And tells me Jove asserts the Trojan arms."

He spoke, and foremost to the combat flew;

The bold example all his hosts pursue.

Then first Leocritus beneath him bled,

In vain beloved by valiant Lycomede;

Who viewed his fall, and, grieving at the chance,

Swift to revenge it, sent his angry lance:

The whirling lance, with vigorous force addressed,

Descends, and pants in Apisaon's breast:

From rich Pseonia's vales the warrior came;

Next thee, Asteropeus! in place and fame.

Asteropeus with grief beheld the slain,

And rushed to combat, but he rushed in vain:

Indissolubly firm around the dead,

Rank within rank, on buckler buckler spread,

And hemmed with bristled spears, the Grecians stood,

A brazen bulwark, and an iron wood.

Great Ajax eyes them with incessant care,

And in an orb contracts the crowded war,

Close in the rank commands to fight or fall,

And stands the centre and the soul of all:

Fixed on the spot they war, and wounded, wound;