opposed,Host against host with shadowy squadrons drew,
The sounding darts in iron tempests flew, Victors and vanquish'd join'd promiscuous cries, And shrilling shouts and dying groans arise;
With streaming blood the slippery fields are dyed,
And slaughter'd heroes swell the dreadful tide. As torrents roll, increased by numerous rills, With rage impetuous, down their echoing hills Rush to the vales, and pour'd along the plain. Roar through a thousand channels to the main: The distant shepherd trembling hears the sound; So mix both hosts, and so their cries rebound. The bold Antilochus the slaughter led,
The first who struck a valiant Trojan dead:
At great Echepolus the lance arrives,
75
Razed his high crest, and through his helmet drives; Warm'd in the brain the brazen weapon lies,
And shades eternal settle o'er his eyes.
So sinks a tower, that long assaults had stood
Of force and fire, its walls besmear'd with blood.
Him, the bold leader of the Abantian throng,140
Seized to despoil, and dragg'd the corpse along: But while he strove to tug the inserted dart, Agenor's javelin reach'd the hero's heart.
His flank, unguarded by his ample shield, Admits the lance: he falls, and spurns the field; The nerves, unbraced, support his limbs no more; The soul comes floating in a tide of gore.
Trojans and Greeks now gather round the slain; The war renews, the warriors bleed again:
As o'er their prey rapacious wolves engage, Man dies on man, and all is blood and rage. In blooming youth fair Simoisius fell,
Sent by great Ajax to the shades of hell; Fair Simoisius, whom his mother bore Amid the flocks on silver Simois' shore:
The nymph descending from the hills of Ide,
To seek her parents on his flowery side,
[pg 080]
Brought forth the babe, their common care and joy, And thence from Simois named the lovely boy. Short was his date! by dreadful Ajax slain,
He falls, and renders all their cares in vain!
So falls a poplar, that in watery ground
Raised high the head, with stately branches crown'd, (Fell'd by some artist with his shining steel,
To shape the circle of the bending wheel,)
Cut down it lies, tall, smooth, and largely spread, With all its beauteous honours on its head
There, left a subject to the wind and rain, And scorch'd by suns, it withers on the plain Thus pierced by Ajax, Simoisius lies
Stretch'd on the shore, and thus neglected dies. At Ajax, Antiphus his javelin threw;
The pointed lance with erring fury flew, And Leucus, loved by wise Ulysses, slew. He drops the corpse of Simoisius slain,
And sinks a breathless carcase on the plain. This saw Ulysses, and with grief enraged,
Strode where the foremost of the foes engaged; Arm'd with his spear, he meditates the wound, In act to throw; but cautious look'd around, Struck at his sight the Trojans backward drew, And trembling heard the javelin as it flew.
A chief stood nigh, who from Abydos came, Old Priam's son, Democoon was his name. The weapon entered close above his ear,
Cold through his temples glides the whizzing spear;141
With piercing shrieks the youth resigns his breath, His eyeballs darken with the shades of death; Ponderous he falls; his clanging arms resound, And his broad buckler rings against the ground. Seized with affright the boldest foes appear;
76
E'en godlike Hector seems himself to fear;
Slow he gave way, the rest tumultuous fled;
The Greeks with shouts press on, and spoil the dead: But Phoebus now from Ilion's towering height
Shines forth reveal'd, and animates the fight. "Trojans, be bold, and force with force oppose; Your foaming steeds urge headlong on the foes! Nor are their bodies rocks, nor ribb'd with steel; Your weapons enter, and your strokes they feel. Have ye forgot what seem'd your dread before? The great, the fierce Achilles fights no more." Apollo thus from Ilion's lofty towers,
Array'd in terrors, roused the Trojan powers: While war's fierce goddess fires the Grecian foe, [pg 081]
And shouts and thunders in the fields below.
Then great Diores fell, by doom divine, In vain his valour and illustrious line.
A broken rock the force of Pyrus threw,
(Who from cold AEnus led the Thracian crew,)142
Full on his ankle dropp'd the ponderous stone, Burst the strong nerves, and crash'd the solid bone. Supine he tumbles on the crimson sands,
Before his helpless friends, and native bands, And spreads for aid his unavailing hands.
The foe rush'd furious as he pants for breath, And through his navel drove the pointed death: His gushing entrails smoked upon the ground, And the warm life came issuing from the wound. His lance bold Thoas at the conqueror sent,
Deep in his breast above the pap it went, Amid the lungs was fix'd the winged wood, And quivering in his heaving bosom stood: Till from the dying chief, approaching near, The AEtolian warrior tugg'd his weighty spear:
Then sudden waved his flaming falchion round,
And gash'd his belly with a ghastly wound;
The corpse now breathless on the bloody plain, To spoil his arms the victor strove in vain;
The Thracian bands against the victor press'd, A grove of lances glitter'd at his breast.
Stern Thoas, glaring with revengeful eyes, In sullen fury slowly quits the prize.
Thus fell two heroes; one the pride of Thrace, And one the leader of the Epeian race;
Death's sable shade at once o'ercast their eyes, In dust the vanquish'd and the victor lies.
With copious slaughter all the fields are red,
And heap'd with growing mountains of the dead. Had some brave chief this martial scene beheld, By Pallas guarded through the dreadful field; Might darts be bid to turn their points away,
And swords around him innocently play;
The war's whole art with wonder had he seen, And counted heroes where he counted men. So fought each host, with thirst of glory fired, And crowds on crowds triumphantly expired. [pg 082]
77
Map of the Plain of Troy. [pg 083]
