Valiant in vain! by thy cursed arm destroy'd: Thee, vultures wild should scatter round the shore.Īnd bloody dogs grow fiercer from thy gore. Hector! my loved, my dearest, bravest son!Īnd stretch'd beneath that fury of the plain. "Ah stay not, stay not! guardless and alone While the sad father on the rampart stands,Īnd thus adjures him with extended hands: The son, resolved Achilles' force to dare,įull at the Scaean gates expects the war He calls his much–loved son with feeble cries: He lifts his wither'd arms obtests the skies He strikes his reverend head, now white with age Taints the red air with fevers, plagues, and death. Orion's dog (the year when autumn weighs),Īnd o'er the feebler stars exerts his rays Through the thick gloom of some tempestuous night, Him, as he blazing shot across the field, To the near goal with double ardour flies. So the proud courser, victor of the prize, With high and haughty steps he tower'd along, Mean fame, alas! for one of heavenly strain, Powerful of godhead, and of fraud divine: What gasping numbers now had bit the ground! The chief incensed-"Too partial god of day! While here thy frantic rage attacks a god." Safe in their walls are now her troops bestow'd, Vain thy past labour, and thy present vain: What boots thee now, that Troy forsook the plain? Unskill'd to trace the latent marks of heaven. "And what (he cries) has Peleus' son in view,įor not to thee to know the gods is given, (The power confess'd in all his glory burns:) The guardian still of long–defended Troy. Still his bold arms determined to employ, There fix'd he stood before the Scaean gate Great Hector singly stay'd: chain'd down by fate March, bending on, the Greeks' embodied powers,įar stretching in the shade of Trojan towers. There safe they wipe the briny drops away,Īnd drown in bowls the labours of the day.Ĭlose to the walls, advancing o'er the fieldsīeneath one roof of well–compacted shields, Thus to their bulwarks, smit with panic fear, The scene lies under the walls, and on the battlements of Troy. Their cries reach the ears of Andromache, who, ignorant of this, was retired into the inner part of the palace: she mounts up to the walls, and beholds her dead husband. Achilles drags the dead body at his chariot in the sight of Priam and Hecuba. She deludes Hector in the shape of Deiphobus he stands the combat, and is slain. The gods debate concerning the fate of Hector at length Minerva descends to the aid of Achilles. Achilles pursues him thrice round the walls of Troy. Hector consults within himself what measures to take but at the advance of Achilles, his resolution fails him, and he flies. Hecuba joins her entreaties, but in vain. Priam is struck at his approach, and tries to persuade his son to re–enter the town. The Trojans being safe within the walls, Hector only stays to oppose Achilles.
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