Medulla Poetarum Romanorum Or, the Most Beautiful and Instructive Passages of the Roman Poets. Being a Collection, (Disposed under proper Heads,) Of such Descriptions, Allusions, Comparisons, Characters, and Sentiments, as may best serve to shew the Religion, Learning, Politicks, Arts, Customs, Opinions, Manners, and Circumstances of the Antients. With Translations of the same in English Verse. By Mr. Henry Baker |
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Army.
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 | Medulla Poetarum Romanorum |  |
Army.
See Battle.
Num'rous as Surges roll'd on Lybia's Sea,
When rough Orion sets in wintry Waves:
Or Ears of Corn scorch'd by the Summer's Sun,
On Hermus' Plain, or Lycia's yellow Fields.
Their Targets ring: And with their trampling Feet
The Ground beneath them trembles as they walk.—
When rough Orion sets in wintry Waves:
Or Ears of Corn scorch'd by the Summer's Sun,
On Hermus' Plain, or Lycia's yellow Fields.
Their Targets ring: And with their trampling Feet
The Ground beneath them trembles as they walk.—
The Horsemen march: The Gates are open'd wide:
Æneas at their Head, Achates by his Side.
Next These the Trojan Leaders rode along:
Last, follows in the Rear th' Arcadian Throng.
Young Pallas shone conspicuous o'er the rest:
Gilded his Arms, embroider'd was his Vest.
The trembling Wives the Walls and Turrets croud,
And follow, with their Eyes, the dusty Cloud:
Which Winds disperse by Fits: and shew from far
The Blaze of Arms, and Shields, and shining War.
The Troops, drawn up in beautiful Array,
Along the Lawns, pursue the nearest Way.
Repeated Peals of Shouts are heard around;
The Horse, in close Array,—
Shake with their sounding Hoofs the quaggy Ground.—
Æneas at their Head, Achates by his Side.
Next These the Trojan Leaders rode along:
Last, follows in the Rear th' Arcadian Throng.
77
Gilded his Arms, embroider'd was his Vest.
The trembling Wives the Walls and Turrets croud,
And follow, with their Eyes, the dusty Cloud:
Which Winds disperse by Fits: and shew from far
The Blaze of Arms, and Shields, and shining War.
The Troops, drawn up in beautiful Array,
Along the Lawns, pursue the nearest Way.
Repeated Peals of Shouts are heard around;
The Horse, in close Array,—
Shake with their sounding Hoofs the quaggy Ground.—
Now all the Army march'd upon the Plain,
Rich in proud Steeds, in broider'd Vests, and Gold.
Messapus leads the Van, the Rear the Sons
Of Tyrrheus: In the Center Turnus moves,
Chief, by the Head entire above them all,
And tow'rs in Arms.—Slow, without Noise they march:
As, by sev'n Rivers swell'd, in Silence flows
Ganges profound: or with his fruitful Stream
Nilus, when, ebbing from the Fields, he draws
His Train, and in his Channel glides confin'd.—
Rich in proud Steeds, in broider'd Vests, and Gold.
Messapus leads the Van, the Rear the Sons
Of Tyrrheus: In the Center Turnus moves,
Chief, by the Head entire above them all,
And tow'rs in Arms.—Slow, without Noise they march:
As, by sev'n Rivers swell'd, in Silence flows
Ganges profound: or with his fruitful Stream
Nilus, when, ebbing from the Fields, he draws
His Train, and in his Channel glides confin'd.—
| Medulla Poetarum Romanorum | |