A favourable Gale arose from Shore,
Which to the Port desir'd, the Grecian Gallies bore.

Full in the midst of this Created Space, [Place Betwixt Heav'n, Earth and Skies, there stands a Confining on all three; with triple Bound; Whence all Things, though remote, are view'd

around; And thither bring their Undulating Sound. The Palace of loud Fame; her Seat of Pow'r; Plac'd on the Summet of a lofty Tow'r; A thousand winding Entries long and wide, Receive of fresh Reports a flowing Tide. A thousand Crannies in the Walls are made; Nor Gate nor Bars exclude the busie Trade. 'Tis built of Brass, the better to diffuse The spreading Sounds, and multiply the News: Where Eccho's in repeated Eccho's play: A Mart for ever full; and open Night and Day. Nor Silence is within, nor Voice express, But a deaf Noise of Sounds that never cease. Confus’d, and Chiding, like the hollow Roar Of Tides, receding from th’insulted Shore.

Or

Or like the broken Thunder, heard from far,
When Jove to distance drives the rowling War.
The Courts are fill'd with a tumultuous Din
Of Crowds, or iffuing forth, or entring in:
A thorough-fare of News: Where fome devise
Things never heard; fome mingle Truth with Lies:
The troubled Air with empty Sounds they beat:
Intent to hear; and eager to repeat.
Error fits brooding there; with added Train
Of vain Credulity; and Joys as vain:

Sufpicion, with Sedition join'd, are near;

And Rumors rais'd, and Murmurs mix'd, and Panique Fear.

Fame fits aloft; and fees the fubject Ground; And Seas about, and Skies above; enquiring all around.

The Goddefs gives th' Alarm; and foon is known The Grecian Fleet, defcending on the Town, Fix'd on Defence the Trojans are not flow To guard their Shore, from an expected Foe. They meet in Fight: By Hector's fatal Hand Protefilaus falls; and bites the Strand:

Cc

Which with expence of Blood the Grecians won;
And prov❜d the Strength unknown of Priam's Son.
And to their Coft the Trojan Leaders felt

The Grecian Heroes; and what Deaths they dealt.
From these first Onfets, the Sigaan Shore
Was ftrew'd with Carcaffes; and ftain'd withGore:
Neptunian Cygnus, Troops of Greeks had flain;
Achilles in his Carr had fcowr'd the Plain,
And clear'd theTrojanRanks: Where-e'er he fought
Cygnus, or Hector, through the Fields he fought:
Cygnus he found; on him his Force effay'd:

For Hector was to the tenth Year delay'd.

[Yoke, His white man'd Steeds, that bow'd beneath the He chear'd to Courage, with a gentle Stroke; Then urg'd his fiery Chariot on the Foe; And rifing fhook his Lance; in act to throw. But firft he cry'd, O Youth, be proud to bear Thy Death, enobled, by Pelides' Spear. The Lance purfu'd the Voice without delay; Nor did the whizzing Weapon miss the way, But pierc'd his Cuirafs, with fuch Fury fent; And fign'd his Bofom with a Purple dint.

At this the Seed of Neptune; Goddess-born,
For Ornament, not Use, these Arms are worn;
This Helm, and heavy Buckler, I can fpare;
As only Decorations of the War:

So Mars is arm'd for Glory, not for Need.
'Tis fomewhat more from Neptune to proceed,
Than from a Daughter of the Sea to spring:
Thy Sire is Mortal; mine is Ocean's King.
Secure of Death, I fhou'd contemn thy Dart,
Tho' naked; and impaffible depart:

He faid, and threw: The trembling Weapon pafs'd

Through nine Bull-hides, each under other plac'd,
On his broad Shield; and stuck within the last.
Achilles wrench'd it out; and sent again
The hostile Gift: The hoftile Gift was vain.
He try'd a third, a tough well-chofen Spear;
Th' inviolable Body ftood fincere,
Though Cygnus then did no Defence provide,
But fcornful offer'd his unfhielded Side.

Not otherwife th' impatient Hero far'd,
Than as a Bull, incompass'd with a Guard,

Amid the Circus roars: Provok'd from far
By light of Scarlet, and a fanguine War:

They quit their Ground; his bended Horns elude;
In vain pursuing, and in vain pursu'd:

Before to farther Fight he wou'd advance, He stood considering, and survey'd his Lance. Doubts if he wielded not a Wooden Spear Without a Point: Helook'd, the Point was there. This is my Hand, and this my Lance, he said; By which so many thousand Foes are dead. O whither is their usual Virtue fled! I had it once; and the Lyrnelian Wall, And Tenedos, confess’d it in their Fall. Thy Streams, Caicus, rowld a Crimfon-Flood; And Thebes ran Red with her own Natives Blood. Twice Telephus employ'd their piercing Steel, To wound him first, and afterward to heal. The Vigour of this Arm was never vain: And that my wonted Prowefs I retain, Witness these heaps of Slaughter on the Plain. He said; and, doubtful of his former Deeds, To some new Trial of his Force proceeds.

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