The best that e'er on earth's broad surface run,
Beneath the rising or the setting sun.
Hence great Anchises stole a breed, unknown
By mortal mares, from fierce Laomedon:
Four of this race his ample stalls contain,
And two transport Æneas o'er the plain.
These, were the rich immortal prize our own,
Through the wide world should make our glory
known.'
Thus while they spoke, the foe came furious on, And stern Lycaon's warlike race begun: [sail'd, 'Prince, thou art met. Though late in vain asThe spear may enter where the arrow fail'd.' He said, then shook the ponderous lance, and flung;
On his broad shield the sounding weapon rung, Pierced the tough orb, and in his cuirass hung. 'Hebleeds! the pride of Greece! (the boaster cries) Our triumph now the mighty warrior lies!' 'Mistaken vaunter! (Diomed replied)
Thy dart has err'd, and now my spear be tried; Ye scape not both; one, headlong from his car, With hostile blood shall glut the god of war.'
He spoke, and rising hurl'd his forceful dart, Which, driven by Pallas, pierced a vital part; Full in his face it enter'd, and betwixt
The nose and eyeball the proud Lycian fix'd;
Crash'd all his jaws, and cleft the tongue within,
Till the bright point look'd out beneath the chin.
Headlong he falls, his helmet knocks the ground:
Earth groans beneath him, and his arms resound;
The starting coursers tremble with affright;
The soul indignant seeks the realms of night.
To guard his slaughter'd friend, Æneas flies,
His spear extending where the carcass lies;
Watchful he wheels, protects it every way,
As the grim lion stalks around his prey.
O'er the fallen trunk his ample shield display'd,
He hides the hero with his mighty shade,
And threats aloud: the Greeks with longing eyes Behold at distance, but forbear the prize.
Then fierce Tydides stoops; and from the fields, Heaved with vast force, a rocky fragment wields. Not two strong men the' enormous weight could raise,
Such men as live in these degenerate days:
He swung it round; and, gathering strength to
throw,
Discharged the ponderous ruin at the foe.
Where to the hip the' inserted thigh unites,
Full on the bone the pointed marble lights;
Through both the tendons broke the rugged stone,
And stripp'd the skin, and crack'd the solid bone.
Sunk on his knees, and staggering with his pains,
His falling bulk his bended arm sustains;
Lost in a dizzy mist the warrior lies;
A sudden cloud comes swimming o'er his eyes.
There the brave chief, who mighty numbers sway'd,
Oppress'd had sunk to death's eternal shade;
But heavenly Venus mindful of the love
She bore Anchises in the' Idæan grove,
His danger views with anguish and despair,
And guards her offspring with a mother's care.
About her much loved son her arms she throws,
Her arms whose whiteness match the falling snows.
Screen'd from the foe behind her shining veil,
The swords wave harmless, and the javelins fail:
Safe through the rushing horse, and feather'd flight
Of sounding shafts, she bears him from the fight.
DESCENT OF JUNO AND MINERVA.
THE carnage Juno from the skies survey'd, And, touch'd with grief, bespoke the blue-eyed maid
'Oh, sight accursed! shall faithless Troy prevail,
And shall our promise to our people fail?
How vain the word to Menelaüs given
By Jove's great daughter and the queen of heaven,
Beneath his arms that Priam's towers should fall,
If warring gods for ever guard the wall?
Mars, red with slaughter, aids our hated foes:
Haste, let us arm, and force with force oppose !'
She spoke; Minerva burns to meet the war :
And now heaven's empress calls her blazing car.
At her command rush forth the steeds divine;
Rich with immortal gold their trappings shine.
Bright Hebè waits; by Hebè, ever young,
The whirling wheels are to the chariot hung.
On the bright axle turns the bidden wheel
Of sounding brass; the polish'd axle, steel.
Eight brazen spokes in radiant order flame;
The circles gold, of uncorrupted frame,
Such as the heavens produce: and round the gold
Two brazen rings of work divine were roll'd.
The bossy naves of solid silver shone;
Braces of gold suspend the moving throne:
The car, behind, an arching figure bore;
The bending concave form'd an arch before.
Silver the beam, the' extended yoke was gold,
And golden reins the' immortal coursers hold.
Herself, impatient, to the ready car
The coursers joins, and breathes revenge and war.
Pallas disrobes; her radiant veil untied,
With flowers adorn'd, with art diversified
(The labour'd veil her heavenly fingers wove),
Flows on the pavement of the court of Jove.
Now heaven's dread arms her mighty limbs invest,
Jove's cuirass blazes on her ample breast;
Desk'd in sad triumph for the mournful field,
O'er her broad shoulders hangs his horrid shield,
Dire, black, tremendous! Round the margin roll'd,
A fringe of serpents hissing guards the gold:
Here all the terrors of grim War appear,
Here rages Force, here tremble Flight and Fear,
Here storm'd Contention, and here Fury frown'd,
And the dire orb portentous Gorgon crown'd.
The massy golden helm she next assumes,
That dreadful nods with four o'ershading plumes;
So vast, the broad circumference contains
A hundred armies on a hundred plains.
The goddess thus the' imperial car ascends;
Shook by her arm the mighty javelin bends,
Ponderous and huge; that when her fury burns,
Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts o'erturns.
Swift at the scourge the' etherial coursers fly,
While the smooth chariot cuts the liquid sky.
Heaven's gates spontaneous opens to the powers,
Heaven's golden gates, kept by the winged Hours;
Commission'd in alternate watch they stand,
The sun's bright portals and the skies command,
Involve in clouds the' eternal gates of day,
Or the dark barrier roll with ease away.
The sounding hinges ring: on either side
The gloomy volumes, pierced with light, divide.
The chariot mounts, where deep in ambient skies,
Confused, Olympus' hundred heads arise;
Where far apart the thunderer fills his throne,
O'er all the gods superior and alone.
There with her snowy hand the queen restrains
The fiery steeds, and thus to Jove complains-
'O sire! can no resentment touch thy soul?
Can Mars rebel, and does no thunder roll?
What lawless rage on yon forbidden plain!
What rash destruction! and what heroes slain!
Venus, and Phoebus with the dreadful bow,
Smile on the slaughter, and enjoy my woe.
Mad, furious power! whose unrelenting mind
No god can govern, and no justice bind.
Say, mighty father! shall we scourge his pride,
And drive from fight the' impetuous homicide?'
To whom, assenting, thus the thunderer said—
'Go! and the great Minerva be thy aid.
To tame the monster-god Minerva knows,
And oft afflicts his brutal breast with woes.'
He said; Saturnia, ardent to obey,
Lash'd her white steeds along the' aerial way.
Swift down the steep of heaven the chariot rolls,
Between the' expanded earth and starry poles.
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: Troy now they reach'd, and touch'd those banks divine,
Where silver Simoïs and Scamander join.
There Juno stopp'd, and (her fair steeds unloosed)
Of air condensed a vapour circumfused:
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