Poetical essays on Several Occasions By Samuel Bowden |
 | I. |
The Story of the Trojan Women Burning their Ships.
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 | II. |
 | Poetical essays on Several Occasions |  |
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The Story of the Trojan Women Burning their Ships.
Virgil. Æneid. Lib. V.
The
Trojans now their solemn Rites display'd,
Sacred to great Anchises' awful Shade.
But while their ritual Games his Manes grace,
Here first inconstant Fortune chang'd her Face.
Sacred to great Anchises' awful Shade.
But while their ritual Games his Manes grace,
Here first inconstant Fortune chang'd her Face.
On her old Grudge Relentless Juno bent,
Sends Iris from the Skies her Rage to vent,
Swift bids her hasten to the Trojan Fleet,
And with celestial Breezes wings her Feet.
Unseen she glides along the gilded Skies,
From her fair Bow a thousand Colours rise:
The painted Virgin sees the Trojan Band,
The crouded Theatre, the silent Strand,
Sees the forsaken Ships, the desart Port,
Where, far retir'd, the Dardan Dames resort,
There, for Anchises, lonely weeping stood,
And weeping all beheld the crystal Flood,
One Voice, one Passion, all the Troop possess'd:
What, must we still explore a Place of Rest?
Fatigu'd with Storms and Billows, leave our Home,
Still fated o'er yon trackless Seas to roam?
While skilful Iris mingles with the Croud,
The Goddess, veil'd in a terrestrial Shroud,
By Juno taught her radiant Form to hide
In Beroe's Guise, Doryclus' aged Bride.
Ismarian Doryclus, whose Race and Name,
When Ilium stood, were not unknown to Fame.
Sends Iris from the Skies her Rage to vent,
Swift bids her hasten to the Trojan Fleet,
And with celestial Breezes wings her Feet.
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From her fair Bow a thousand Colours rise:
The painted Virgin sees the Trojan Band,
The crouded Theatre, the silent Strand,
Sees the forsaken Ships, the desart Port,
Where, far retir'd, the Dardan Dames resort,
There, for Anchises, lonely weeping stood,
And weeping all beheld the crystal Flood,
One Voice, one Passion, all the Troop possess'd:
What, must we still explore a Place of Rest?
Fatigu'd with Storms and Billows, leave our Home,
Still fated o'er yon trackless Seas to roam?
While skilful Iris mingles with the Croud,
The Goddess, veil'd in a terrestrial Shroud,
By Juno taught her radiant Form to hide
In Beroe's Guise, Doryclus' aged Bride.
Ismarian Doryclus, whose Race and Name,
When Ilium stood, were not unknown to Fame.
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Thus unobserv'd, amidst the Throng she press'd,
And in these Words the Female Clans address'd.
And in these Words the Female Clans address'd.
Unhappy Matrons! whom the Grecian Bands
Unkindly spar'd to rove o'er foreign Lands;
Bless'd had ye been beneath Troy's Ruins slain,
And not reserv'd for Scenes of future Pain.
The Sun has sev'n times pass'd his vernal Bound,
Since we poor Pilgrims strole the World around.
What Seas, what Stars, what Climates have we cross'd,
On barren Rocks, and barren Regions toss'd?
And o'er tumultuous Waves in vain pursue
Italian Shores, eluding still our View.
Now on Sicilia's friendly Banks we stand,
The kind Acestes' hospitable Land,
Ah! let us here our toilsome Journey close,
Erect new Walls, and seek at last Repose.
O Country! now no more, O Trojan Names!
O sacred Gods! in vain secur'd from Flames,
Shall Troy, and Hector's Streams be nam'd no more,
And no new Simois bound another Shore?
Unkindly spar'd to rove o'er foreign Lands;
Bless'd had ye been beneath Troy's Ruins slain,
And not reserv'd for Scenes of future Pain.
The Sun has sev'n times pass'd his vernal Bound,
Since we poor Pilgrims strole the World around.
What Seas, what Stars, what Climates have we cross'd,
On barren Rocks, and barren Regions toss'd?
And o'er tumultuous Waves in vain pursue
Italian Shores, eluding still our View.
Now on Sicilia's friendly Banks we stand,
The kind Acestes' hospitable Land,
Ah! let us here our toilsome Journey close,
Erect new Walls, and seek at last Repose.
O Country! now no more, O Trojan Names!
O sacred Gods! in vain secur'd from Flames,
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And no new Simois bound another Shore?
But come, ye Matrons! and let Rage inspire,
Come, set, with me, these cursed Ships on Fire.
To me Cassandra's Form in Dreams appear'd,
And with up-lifted Arm bright Torches rear'd:
Here seek lost Troy, here fix your Home, she said,
Conclude your Toils; and strait the Vision fled.
Then haste, beloved Sex! the Call obey,
Since Prodigies and Omens point the Way.
Come, set, with me, these cursed Ships on Fire.
To me Cassandra's Form in Dreams appear'd,
And with up-lifted Arm bright Torches rear'd:
Here seek lost Troy, here fix your Home, she said,
Conclude your Toils; and strait the Vision fled.
Then haste, beloved Sex! the Call obey,
Since Prodigies and Omens point the Way.
Sacred to Neptune, see, four Altars lie,
The God himself will Fire and Force supply.
The God himself will Fire and Force supply.
She spoke; and snatching swift a flaming Brand,
With glitt'ring Vengeance waves her vig'rous Hand,
Thro' the sing'd Air the winged Lightning flies,
While the mad Matrons gaze with wondring Eyes.
With glitt'ring Vengeance waves her vig'rous Hand,
Thro' the sing'd Air the winged Lightning flies,
While the mad Matrons gaze with wondring Eyes.
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But one, nam'd Pyrgo, eldest of the Throng,
The royal Nurse of Priam's royal Young,
Believe, this is not Beroe's Aspect, cry'd,
Nor can she be the fam'd Doryclus' Bride.
Observe with what majestic Gate she walks,
Her Mien how noble, how divine she talks,
What Spirit in her Looks, what heav'nly Grace,
And charming Splendor brightens in her Face.
Beroe herself I feeble left behind,
Detain'd by Sickness and Chagrin of Mind,
Lamenting her unhappy Fate to stay,
Nor share the Honors of Anchises' Day.
The royal Nurse of Priam's royal Young,
Believe, this is not Beroe's Aspect, cry'd,
Nor can she be the fam'd Doryclus' Bride.
Observe with what majestic Gate she walks,
Her Mien how noble, how divine she talks,
What Spirit in her Looks, what heav'nly Grace,
And charming Splendor brightens in her Face.
Beroe herself I feeble left behind,
Detain'd by Sickness and Chagrin of Mind,
Lamenting her unhappy Fate to stay,
Nor share the Honors of Anchises' Day.
She ceas'd; the doubtful Matrons, in Amaze,
With Looks malignant, on the Gallies gaze;
Whether to stay, involv'd in sad Suspense,
Or listen to the Fates, which call'd them thence.
When, lo! the winged Goddess quits the Croud,
And forms a splendid Arch across the Cloud.
With Looks malignant, on the Gallies gaze;
Whether to stay, involv'd in sad Suspense,
Or listen to the Fates, which call'd them thence.
When, lo! the winged Goddess quits the Croud,
And forms a splendid Arch across the Cloud.
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Then, struck with Visions, frantic Rage inspires
The shrieking Troops to pluck the hallow'd Fires,
The Altars rob, while from their vengeful Hands
Fly mingled, smoaking Boughs, and flaming Brands.
Devouring Vulcan now begins his Wreck,
Preys on the Seats, and fastens on the Deck;
The painted Stern aloft, of Firr-tree-frame,
With crackling Noise, falls mould'ring in the Flame.
The shrieking Troops to pluck the hallow'd Fires,
The Altars rob, while from their vengeful Hands
Fly mingled, smoaking Boughs, and flaming Brands.
Devouring Vulcan now begins his Wreck,
Preys on the Seats, and fastens on the Deck;
The painted Stern aloft, of Firr-tree-frame,
With crackling Noise, falls mould'ring in the Flame.
Eumelus hastens to Anchises' Tomb,
The first sad Envoy of the Navy's Doom,
And soon the crouded Circus sees from far,
Volumes of Smoke obscure the dusky Air.
The first sad Envoy of the Navy's Doom,
And soon the crouded Circus sees from far,
Volumes of Smoke obscure the dusky Air.
And first Ascanius, with his mounted Band
Of Trojan Youths, flies to the noisy Strand.
In vain th'affrighted Guides his Course would stay,
Nor Cries nor Tears, can interrupt his Way.
Of Trojan Youths, flies to the noisy Strand.
In vain th'affrighted Guides his Course would stay,
Nor Cries nor Tears, can interrupt his Way.
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And thus the Youth, O wretched Females! cries,
What means this Rage, this Frenzy in your Eyes?
No Grecian Tents, no hostile Seats you burn,
But your own Hopes to Flames and Ashes turn,
See your Ascanius thus before you stands,
And throws his useless Helmet on the Sands,
With which, at his old Grandsire's Games, array'd,
The mimic Face of War the Youth display'd.
What means this Rage, this Frenzy in your Eyes?
No Grecian Tents, no hostile Seats you burn,
But your own Hopes to Flames and Ashes turn,
See your Ascanius thus before you stands,
And throws his useless Helmet on the Sands,
With which, at his old Grandsire's Games, array'd,
The mimic Face of War the Youth display'd.
Æneas next, with the concurring Train
Of Dardan Bands, hastes o'er Sicilia's Plain.
But the pale Sex, confus'd, and tim'rous rove
Wild o'er the Beach, or seek the silent Grove;
In winding Caverns hide, and fill'd with Shame,
Grow sick of Life, and their mad Actions blame;
Confess their Friends with milder Thoughts possest,
And banish'd Juno peaceful leaves their Breast.
Of Dardan Bands, hastes o'er Sicilia's Plain.
But the pale Sex, confus'd, and tim'rous rove
Wild o'er the Beach, or seek the silent Grove;
In winding Caverns hide, and fill'd with Shame,
Grow sick of Life, and their mad Actions blame;
Confess their Friends with milder Thoughts possest,
And banish'd Juno peaceful leaves their Breast.
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Not so the spreading Flames their Force allay,
But with unconquer'd Fury sweep their Way.
The nourish'd Fire here hovering feeds on Tow,
And smother'd Planks emit thick Fumes below.
In vain the Art of Chiefs, and Men conspires,
In vain full Currents ply the growing Fires,
The raging Element resistless spreads
Destruction round, and tow'rs above their Heads.
But with unconquer'd Fury sweep their Way.
The nourish'd Fire here hovering feeds on Tow,
And smother'd Planks emit thick Fumes below.
In vain the Art of Chiefs, and Men conspires,
In vain full Currents ply the growing Fires,
The raging Element resistless spreads
Destruction round, and tow'rs above their Heads.
Then rent the Chief his Garments from his Breast,
Invok'd the Gods, and thus his Pray'rs address'd.
“Almighty Jove! if yet thy Mercy reigns,
“Nor everlasting Hate to Troy remains,
“If antient Love will human Toils reward,
“Oh! from surrounding Ills the Navy guard,
“Snatch it from Ruin, and, if not too late,
“Preserve our little Weal from threatning Fate:
“Or if I merit Death, Great Jove! (he said)
“Direct thy forked Thunder at my Head.
Invok'd the Gods, and thus his Pray'rs address'd.
“Almighty Jove! if yet thy Mercy reigns,
“Nor everlasting Hate to Troy remains,
“If antient Love will human Toils reward,
“Oh! from surrounding Ills the Navy guard,
“Snatch it from Ruin, and, if not too late,
“Preserve our little Weal from threatning Fate:
“Or if I merit Death, Great Jove! (he said)
“Direct thy forked Thunder at my Head.
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Scarce had he spoke, when thro' the sounding Skies,
With clatt'ring Noise, a sweeping Tempest flies;
The lowring Clouds let loose th'imprison'd Show'rs
In Floods of Rain, and Thunder shakes the Tow'rs;
High on the Mountain Tops the Lightnings glare,
And rattling Storms rush thro' the noisy Air.
The Ships, replete with Rain, o'erflow the Brim,
And half-burn'd Planks in Lakes of Water swim,
Till in the Flood dies each dull Spark away,
And only four to Vulcan fall a Prey.
With clatt'ring Noise, a sweeping Tempest flies;
The lowring Clouds let loose th'imprison'd Show'rs
In Floods of Rain, and Thunder shakes the Tow'rs;
High on the Mountain Tops the Lightnings glare,
And rattling Storms rush thro' the noisy Air.
The Ships, replete with Rain, o'erflow the Brim,
And half-burn'd Planks in Lakes of Water swim,
Till in the Flood dies each dull Spark away,
And only four to Vulcan fall a Prey.
| Poetical essays on Several Occasions | |