University of Virginia Library

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75

THE Army of Adrastus, and his Allies, marching from Argos to the Siege of Thebes.

Around the pomp in mourning weeds array'd,
Weeps the pale father, and the trembling maid:
The screaming infants at the portals stand,
And clasp, and stop the slow-proceeding band.

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76

Each parting face a settled horrour wears,
Each low-held shield receives a flood of tears.
Some with a kiss (sad sign of future harms)
Round the clos'd beaver glue their clasping arms,
Hang on the spear, detain 'em as they go
With lifted eyes, and eloquence of woe.
Those warlike chiefs, whom dread Bellona steel'd,
And arm'd with souls unknowing once to yield,
Now touch'd with sorrows, hide their tear-ful eyes,
And all the hero melts away and dies.

So the pale sailor launching from the shore,
Leaves the dear prospects that must charm no more:
Here shrieks of anguish pierce his pitying ears.—
There strangely wild, a floating world appears—
Swift the fair vessel wings her watry flight,
And in a mist deceives the aking sight:

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77

The native train in sad distraction weep,
Now beat their breasts, now tremble o'er the deep,
Curse ev'ry gale that wafts the fleet from land,
Breath the last sigh, and wave the circling hand.