 | Pastoral poetry and an essay on criticism (1961) |  |
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THE EPISODE OF SARPEDON,
Translated from the Twelfth and Sixteenth Books OF HOMER's ILIADS.
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The ARGUMENT.
Sarpedon, the Son of Jupiter, commanded the Lycians who came to the Aid of Troy. In the first Battel when Diomed had put the Trojans to flight, he incourag'd Hector to rally, and signaliz'd himself by the Death of Tlepolemus. Afterwards when the Greeks had rais'd a Fortification to cover their Fleet, which the Trojans endeavour'd to overthrow, this Prince was the Occasion of effecting it. He incites Glaucus to second him in this Action by an admirable Speech, which has been render'd in English by Sir John Denham; after whom the Translator had not the Vanity to attempt it for any other reason, than that the Episode must have been very imperfect without so Noble a part of it.
Thus
Hector, great in Arms, contends in vain
To fix the Fortune of the fatal Plain,
Nor Troy cou'd conquer, nor the Greeks wou'd yield,
'Till bold Sarpedon rush'd into the Field;
For Mighty Jove inspir'd with Martial Flame
His God-like Son, and urg'd him on to Fame.
In Arms he shines, conspicuous from afar,
And bears aloft his ample Shield in Air,
Within whose Orb the thick Bull-hides were roll'd,
Pondrous with Brass, and bound with ductile Gold;
And while two pointed Jav'lins arm his Hands,
Majestick moves along, and leads his Lycian Bands.
To fix the Fortune of the fatal Plain,
Nor Troy cou'd conquer, nor the Greeks wou'd yield,
'Till bold Sarpedon rush'd into the Field;
For Mighty Jove inspir'd with Martial Flame
His God-like Son, and urg'd him on to Fame.
In Arms he shines, conspicuous from afar,
And bears aloft his ample Shield in Air,
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Pondrous with Brass, and bound with ductile Gold;
And while two pointed Jav'lins arm his Hands,
Majestick moves along, and leads his Lycian Bands.
So prest with Hunger, from the Mountain's Brow,
Descends a Lion on the Flocks below;
So stalks the Lordly Savage o'er the Plain,
In sullen Majesty, and stern Disdain:
In vain loud Mastives bay him from afar,
And Shepherds gaul him with an Iron War;
Regardless, furious, he pursues his way;
He foams, he roars, he rends the panting Prey.
Descends a Lion on the Flocks below;
So stalks the Lordly Savage o'er the Plain,
In sullen Majesty, and stern Disdain:
In vain loud Mastives bay him from afar,
And Shepherds gaul him with an Iron War;
Regardless, furious, he pursues his way;
He foams, he roars, he rends the panting Prey.
Resolv'd alike, Divine Sarpedon glows
With gen'rous Rage, that drives him on the Foes.
He views the Tow'rs, and meditates their Fall;
To sure Destruction dooms the Grecian Wall;
Then casting on his Friend an ardent Look,
Fir'd with the Thirst of Glory, thus he spoke.
With gen'rous Rage, that drives him on the Foes.
He views the Tow'rs, and meditates their Fall;
To sure Destruction dooms the Grecian Wall;
Then casting on his Friend an ardent Look,
Fir'd with the Thirst of Glory, thus he spoke.
Why boast we, Glaucus, our extended Reign,
Where Xanthus' Streams enrich the Lycian Plain?
Our num'rous Herds that range each fruitful Field,
And Hills where Vines their Purple Harvest yield?
Our foaming Bowls with gen'rous Nectar crown'd,
Our Feasts enhanc'd with Musick's sprightly Sound?
Why on those Shores are we with Joy survey'd,
Admir'd as Heroes, and as Gods obey'd?
Unless great Acts superior Merit prove,
And Vindicate the bounteous Pow'rs above:
'Tis ours, the Dignity They give, to grace;
The first in Valour, as the first in Place:
That while with wondring Eyes our Martial Bands
Behold our Deeds transcending our Commands,
Such, they may cry, deserve the Sov'reign State,
Whom those that Envy dare not Imitate!
Cou'd all our Care elude the greedy Grave,
Which claims no less the Fearful than the Brave,
For Lust of Fame I shou'd not vainly dare
In fighting Fields, nor urge thy Soul to War.
But since, alas, ignoble Age must come,
Disease, and Death's inexorable Doom;
The Life which others pay, let Us bestow,
And give to Fame what we to Nature owe;
Brave, tho' we fall; and honour'd, if we live;
Or let us Glory gain, or Glory give!
Where Xanthus' Streams enrich the Lycian Plain?
Our num'rous Herds that range each fruitful Field,
And Hills where Vines their Purple Harvest yield?
Our foaming Bowls with gen'rous Nectar crown'd,
Our Feasts enhanc'd with Musick's sprightly Sound?
Why on those Shores are we with Joy survey'd,
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Unless great Acts superior Merit prove,
And Vindicate the bounteous Pow'rs above:
'Tis ours, the Dignity They give, to grace;
The first in Valour, as the first in Place:
That while with wondring Eyes our Martial Bands
Behold our Deeds transcending our Commands,
Such, they may cry, deserve the Sov'reign State,
Whom those that Envy dare not Imitate!
Cou'd all our Care elude the greedy Grave,
Which claims no less the Fearful than the Brave,
For Lust of Fame I shou'd not vainly dare
In fighting Fields, nor urge thy Soul to War.
But since, alas, ignoble Age must come,
Disease, and Death's inexorable Doom;
The Life which others pay, let Us bestow,
And give to Fame what we to Nature owe;
Brave, tho' we fall; and honour'd, if we live;
Or let us Glory gain, or Glory give!
He said, his Words the list'ning Chief inspire
With equal Warmth, and rouze the Warrior's Fire;
The Troops pursue their Leaders with Delight,
Rush to the Foe, and claim the promis'd Fight.
Menestheus from on high the Storm beheld,
Threat'ning the Fort, and black'ning in the Field;
Around the Walls he gaz'd, to view from far
What Aid appear'd t'avert th'approaching War,
And saw where Teucer with th'Ajaces stood,
Insatiate of the Fight, and prodigal of Blood.
In vain he calls, the Din of Helms and Shields
Rings to the Skies, and ecchoes thro' the Fields,
The Gates resound, the Brazen Hinges fly,
While each is bent to conquer or to die.
Then thus to Thoos;—Hence with speed (he said)
And urge the bold Ajaces to our Aid;
Their Strength united best may help to bear
The bloody Labours of the doubtful War:
Hither the Lycian Princes bend their Course,
The best and bravest of the Trojan Force.
But if too fiercely, there, the Foes contend,
Let Telamon at least our Tow'rs defend,
And Teucer haste, with his unerring Bow,
To share the Danger, and repel the Foe.
With equal Warmth, and rouze the Warrior's Fire;
The Troops pursue their Leaders with Delight,
Rush to the Foe, and claim the promis'd Fight.
Menestheus from on high the Storm beheld,
Threat'ning the Fort, and black'ning in the Field;
Around the Walls he gaz'd, to view from far
What Aid appear'd t'avert th'approaching War,
And saw where Teucer with th'Ajaces stood,
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In vain he calls, the Din of Helms and Shields
Rings to the Skies, and ecchoes thro' the Fields,
The Gates resound, the Brazen Hinges fly,
While each is bent to conquer or to die.
Then thus to Thoos;—Hence with speed (he said)
And urge the bold Ajaces to our Aid;
Their Strength united best may help to bear
The bloody Labours of the doubtful War:
Hither the Lycian Princes bend their Course,
The best and bravest of the Trojan Force.
But if too fiercely, there, the Foes contend,
Let Telamon at least our Tow'rs defend,
And Teucer haste, with his unerring Bow,
To share the Danger, and repel the Foe.
Swift as the Word, the Herald speeds along
The lofty Ramparts, through the Warlike Throng,
And finds the Heroes, bath'd in Sweat and Gore,
Oppos'd in Combate on the dusty Shore.
Strait to the Fort great Ajax turn'd his Care,
And thus bespoke his Brothers of the War:
Now valiant Lycomede, exert your Might,
And brave Oïleus, prove your Force in Fight:
To you I trust the Fortune of the Field,
'Till by this Arm the Foe shall be repell'd;
That done, expect me to compleat the Day:
Then, with his Sev'nfold Shield, he strode away.
With equal Steps bold Teucer prest the Shore,
Whose fatal Bow the strong Pandion bore.
High on the Walls appear'd the Lycian Pow'rs,
Like some black Tempest gath'ring round the Tow'rs:
The Greeks oppress'd, their utmost Force unite,
Prepar'd to labour in th'unequal Fight;
The War begins; mix'd Shouts and Groans arise;
Tumultuous Clamour mounts, and thickens in the Skies.
Fierce Ajax first th'advancing Host invades,
And sends the brave Epicles to the Shades,
Sarpedon's Friend; Across the Warrior's Way,
Rent from the Walls, a Rocky Fragment lay;
In modern Ages not the strongest Swain
Cou'd heave th'unwieldy Burthen from the Plain:
He poiz'd, and swung it round; then tost on high,
It flew with Force, and labour'd up the Sky;
Full on the Lycian's Helmet thundring down,
The pondrous Ruin crush'd his batter'd Crown.
As skilful Divers from some Airy Steep
Headlong descend, and shoot into the Deep,
So falls Epicles; then in Groans expires,
And murm'ring from the Corps th'unwilling Soul retires.
The lofty Ramparts, through the Warlike Throng,
And finds the Heroes, bath'd in Sweat and Gore,
Oppos'd in Combate on the dusty Shore.
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And thus bespoke his Brothers of the War:
Now valiant Lycomede, exert your Might,
And brave Oïleus, prove your Force in Fight:
To you I trust the Fortune of the Field,
'Till by this Arm the Foe shall be repell'd;
That done, expect me to compleat the Day:
Then, with his Sev'nfold Shield, he strode away.
With equal Steps bold Teucer prest the Shore,
Whose fatal Bow the strong Pandion bore.
High on the Walls appear'd the Lycian Pow'rs,
Like some black Tempest gath'ring round the Tow'rs:
The Greeks oppress'd, their utmost Force unite,
Prepar'd to labour in th'unequal Fight;
The War begins; mix'd Shouts and Groans arise;
Tumultuous Clamour mounts, and thickens in the Skies.
Fierce Ajax first th'advancing Host invades,
And sends the brave Epicles to the Shades,
Sarpedon's Friend; Across the Warrior's Way,
Rent from the Walls, a Rocky Fragment lay;
In modern Ages not the strongest Swain
Cou'd heave th'unwieldy Burthen from the Plain:
He poiz'd, and swung it round; then tost on high,
It flew with Force, and labour'd up the Sky;
Full on the Lycian's Helmet thundring down,
The pondrous Ruin crush'd his batter'd Crown.
As skilful Divers from some Airy Steep
Headlong descend, and shoot into the Deep,
So falls Epicles; then in Groans expires,
And murm'ring from the Corps th'unwilling Soul retires.
While to the Ramparts daring Glaucus drew,
From Teucer's Hand a winged Arrow flew,
The bearded Shaft the destin'd Passage found,
And on his naked Arm inflicts a Wound.
The Chief who fear'd some Foe's insulting Boast
Might stop the Progress of his warlike Host,
Conceal'd the Wound, and leaping from his Height,
Retir'd reluctant from th'unfinish'd Fight.
Divine Sarpedon with Regret beheld
Disabl'd Glaucus slowly quit the Field;
His beating Breast with gen'rous Ardour glows,
He springs to Fight, and flies upon the Foes.
Alcmaon first was doom'd his Force to feel,
Deep in his Breast he plung'd the pointed Steel,
Then from the yawning Wound with Fury tore
The Spear, pursu'd by gushing Streams of Gore;
Down sinks the Warrior, with a thundring Sound,
His Brazen Armour rings against the Ground.
From Teucer's Hand a winged Arrow flew,
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And on his naked Arm inflicts a Wound.
The Chief who fear'd some Foe's insulting Boast
Might stop the Progress of his warlike Host,
Conceal'd the Wound, and leaping from his Height,
Retir'd reluctant from th'unfinish'd Fight.
Divine Sarpedon with Regret beheld
Disabl'd Glaucus slowly quit the Field;
His beating Breast with gen'rous Ardour glows,
He springs to Fight, and flies upon the Foes.
Alcmaon first was doom'd his Force to feel,
Deep in his Breast he plung'd the pointed Steel,
Then from the yawning Wound with Fury tore
The Spear, pursu'd by gushing Streams of Gore;
Down sinks the Warrior, with a thundring Sound,
His Brazen Armour rings against the Ground.
Swift to the Battlement the Victor flies,
Tugs with full Force, and ev'ry Nerve applies;
It shakes; the pondrous Stones disjoynted yield;
The rowling Ruins smoak along the Field.
A mighty Breach appears, the Walls lye bare,
And like a Deluge rushes in the War.
At once bold Teucer draws the twanging Bow,
And Ajax sends his Jav'lin at the Foe;
Fix'd in his Belt the feather'd Weapon stood,
And thro' his Buckler drove the trembling Wood;
But Jove was present in the dire Debate,
To shield his Off-spring, and avert his Fate.
The Prince gave back; not meditating Flight,
But urging Vengeance and severer Fight;
Then rais'd with Hope, and fir'd with Glory's Charms,
His fainting Squadrons to new Fury warms.
O where, ye Lycians, is the Strength you boast,
Your former Fame, and ancient Virtue lost?
The Breach lyes open, but your Chief in vain
Attempts alone the guarded Pass to gain:
Unite, and soon that Hostile Fleet shall fall,
The Force of pow'rful Union conquers All.
Tugs with full Force, and ev'ry Nerve applies;
It shakes; the pondrous Stones disjoynted yield;
The rowling Ruins smoak along the Field.
A mighty Breach appears, the Walls lye bare,
And like a Deluge rushes in the War.
At once bold Teucer draws the twanging Bow,
And Ajax sends his Jav'lin at the Foe;
Fix'd in his Belt the feather'd Weapon stood,
And thro' his Buckler drove the trembling Wood;
But Jove was present in the dire Debate,
To shield his Off-spring, and avert his Fate.
The Prince gave back; not meditating Flight,
But urging Vengeance and severer Fight;
Then rais'd with Hope, and fir'd with Glory's Charms,
His fainting Squadrons to new Fury warms.
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Your former Fame, and ancient Virtue lost?
The Breach lyes open, but your Chief in vain
Attempts alone the guarded Pass to gain:
Unite, and soon that Hostile Fleet shall fall,
The Force of pow'rful Union conquers All.
This just Rebuke inflam'd the Lycian Crew,
They join, they thicken, and th'Assault renew;
Unmov'd, th'embody'd Greeks their Fury dare,
And fix'd support the Weight of all the War:
Nor cou'd the Greeks repell the Lycian Pow'rs,
Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian Tow'rs.
As on the Confines of adjoyning Grounds,
Two stubborn Swains with Blows dispute their Bounds;
They tugg, they sweat; but neither gain, nor yield,
One Foot, one Inch, of the contended Field:
Thus obstinate to Death, they fight, they fall;
Nor these can keep, nor those can win the Wall:
Their Manly Breasts are pierc'd with many a Wound,
Loud Strokes are heard, and ratling Arms resound,
The copious Slaughter covers all the Shore,
And the high Ramparts drop with Human Gore.
They join, they thicken, and th'Assault renew;
Unmov'd, th'embody'd Greeks their Fury dare,
And fix'd support the Weight of all the War:
Nor cou'd the Greeks repell the Lycian Pow'rs,
Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian Tow'rs.
As on the Confines of adjoyning Grounds,
Two stubborn Swains with Blows dispute their Bounds;
They tugg, they sweat; but neither gain, nor yield,
One Foot, one Inch, of the contended Field:
Thus obstinate to Death, they fight, they fall;
Nor these can keep, nor those can win the Wall:
Their Manly Breasts are pierc'd with many a Wound,
Loud Strokes are heard, and ratling Arms resound,
The copious Slaughter covers all the Shore,
And the high Ramparts drop with Human Gore.
As when two Scales are charg'd with doubtful Loads,
From side to side the trembling Balance nods,
'Till poiz'd aloft, the resting Beam suspends
Each equal Weight, nor this, nor that descends.
So Conquest loth for either to declare,
Levels her Wings, and hov'ring hangs in Air.
'Till Hector came, to whose Superior Might
Jove ow'd the Glory of the destin'd Fight.
Fierce as a Whirlwind, up the Walls he flies,
And fires his Host with loud repeated Cries:
Advance ye Trojans, lend your valiant Hands,
Haste to the Fleet, and toss the blazing Brands!
They hear, they run, and gath'ring at his Call,
Raise scaling Engines, and ascend the Wall:
Around the Works a Wood of glitt'ring Spears
Shoots up, and All the rising Host appears.
A pondrous Stone bold Hector heav'd to throw,
Pointed above, and rough and gross below:
Not two strong Men th'enormous Weight cou'd raise,
Such Men as live in these degen'rate Days.
Yet this, as easie as a Swain wou'd bear
The snowy Fleece; he tost, and shook in Air:
For Jove upheld, and lighten'd of its Load
Th'unwieldy Rock, the Labour of a God.
Thus arm'd, before the folded Gates he came,
Of massy Substance and stupendous Frame,
With Iron Bars and brazen Hinges strong,
On lofty Beams of solid Timber hung.
Then thundring thro' the Planks, with forceful Sway,
Drives the sharp Rock; the solid Beams give way,
The Folds are shatter'd, from the crackling Door
Leap the resounding Bars, the flying Hinges roar.
Now rushing in the furious Chief appears,
Gloomy as Night, and shakes two shining Spears;
A dreadful Gleam from his bright Armour came,
And from his Eye-balls flash'd the living Flame:
He moves a God, resistless in his Course,
And seems a Match for more than Mortal Force.
Then pouring after, thro' the gaping Space
A Tide of Trojans flows, and fills the Place;
The Greeks behold, they tremble, and they fly,
The Shore is heap'd with Death, and Tumult rends the Sky.
From side to side the trembling Balance nods,
'Till poiz'd aloft, the resting Beam suspends
Each equal Weight, nor this, nor that descends.
So Conquest loth for either to declare,
Levels her Wings, and hov'ring hangs in Air.
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Jove ow'd the Glory of the destin'd Fight.
Fierce as a Whirlwind, up the Walls he flies,
And fires his Host with loud repeated Cries:
Advance ye Trojans, lend your valiant Hands,
Haste to the Fleet, and toss the blazing Brands!
They hear, they run, and gath'ring at his Call,
Raise scaling Engines, and ascend the Wall:
Around the Works a Wood of glitt'ring Spears
Shoots up, and All the rising Host appears.
A pondrous Stone bold Hector heav'd to throw,
Pointed above, and rough and gross below:
Not two strong Men th'enormous Weight cou'd raise,
Such Men as live in these degen'rate Days.
Yet this, as easie as a Swain wou'd bear
The snowy Fleece; he tost, and shook in Air:
For Jove upheld, and lighten'd of its Load
Th'unwieldy Rock, the Labour of a God.
Thus arm'd, before the folded Gates he came,
Of massy Substance and stupendous Frame,
With Iron Bars and brazen Hinges strong,
On lofty Beams of solid Timber hung.
Then thundring thro' the Planks, with forceful Sway,
Drives the sharp Rock; the solid Beams give way,
The Folds are shatter'd, from the crackling Door
Leap the resounding Bars, the flying Hinges roar.
Now rushing in the furious Chief appears,
Gloomy as Night, and shakes two shining Spears;
A dreadful Gleam from his bright Armour came,
And from his Eye-balls flash'd the living Flame:
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And seems a Match for more than Mortal Force.
Then pouring after, thro' the gaping Space
A Tide of Trojans flows, and fills the Place;
The Greeks behold, they tremble, and they fly,
The Shore is heap'd with Death, and Tumult rends the Sky.
Connection of the foregoing with the following Part.
The Wall being forc'd by Hector, an obstinate Battel was fought before the Ships, one of which was set on fire by the Trojans. Patroclus thereupon obtaining of Achilles to lead out the Myrmidons to the Assistance of the Greeks, made a great Slaughter of the Enemy, 'till he was oppos'd by Sarpedon. The Combate betwixt these Two, and the Death of the latter, with the Grief of Jupiter for his Son, are describ'd in the ensuing Translation, from the Sixteenth Book of the Iliads.
When now the Chief his valiant Friends beheld
Grov'ling in Dust, and gasping on the Field,
With this Reproach his flying Host he warms,
Oh Stain to Honour! oh Disgrace of Arms!
Forsake, inglorious, the contended Plain;
This Hand unaided shall the War sustain:
The Task be mine the Hero's Strength to try,
Who mows whole Troops, and makes whole Armies fly.
Grov'ling in Dust, and gasping on the Field,
With this Reproach his flying Host he warms,
Oh Stain to Honour! oh Disgrace of Arms!
Forsake, inglorious, the contended Plain;
This Hand unaided shall the War sustain:
The Task be mine the Hero's Strength to try,
Who mows whole Troops, and makes whole Armies fly.
He said, and leap'd from off his lofty Car;
Patroclus lights, and sternly waits the War.
As when two Vulturs on the Mountain's Height
Stoop with their sounding Pinions to the Fight;
They cuff, they tear, they raise a screaming Cry;
The Desart ecchoes, and the Rocks reply:
The Warriors thus oppos'd in Arms engage,
With equal Valour, and with equal Rage.
Patroclus lights, and sternly waits the War.
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Stoop with their sounding Pinions to the Fight;
They cuff, they tear, they raise a screaming Cry;
The Desart ecchoes, and the Rocks reply:
The Warriors thus oppos'd in Arms engage,
With equal Valour, and with equal Rage.
Jove view'd the Combate, whose Event foreseen,
He thus bespoke his Sister and his Queen.
The Hour draws on; the Destinies ordain,
My God-like Son shall press the Phrygian Plain:
Already on the Verge of Death he stands,
His Life is ow'd to fierce Patroclus' Hands.
What Passions in a Parent's Breast debate!
Say, shall I snatch him from Impending Fate;
And send him safe to Lycia, distant far
From all the Dangers and the Toils of War;
Or to his Doom my bravest Off-spring yield,
And fatten, with Celestial Blood, the Field?
He thus bespoke his Sister and his Queen.
The Hour draws on; the Destinies ordain,
My God-like Son shall press the Phrygian Plain:
Already on the Verge of Death he stands,
His Life is ow'd to fierce Patroclus' Hands.
What Passions in a Parent's Breast debate!
Say, shall I snatch him from Impending Fate;
And send him safe to Lycia, distant far
From all the Dangers and the Toils of War;
Or to his Doom my bravest Off-spring yield,
And fatten, with Celestial Blood, the Field?
Then thus the Goddess with the radiant Eyes:
What Words are these, O Sov'reign of the Skies?
Short is the Date prescrib'd to Mortal Man;
Shall Jove, for one, extend the narrow Span,
Whose Bounds were fix'd before his Race began?
How many Sons of Gods, foredoom'd to Death,
Before proud Ilion must resign their Breath!
Were thine exempt, Debate wou'd rise above,
And murm'ring Pow'rs condemn their partial Jove.
Give the bold Chief a glorious Fate in Fight;
And when th'ascending Soul has wing'd her Flight,
Let Sleep and Death convey, by thy Command,
The breathless Body to his Native Land.
His Friends and People, to his future Praise,
A Marble Tomb and Pyramid shall raise,
And lasting Honours to his Ashes give;
His Fame ('tis all the Dead can have!) shall live.
What Words are these, O Sov'reign of the Skies?
Short is the Date prescrib'd to Mortal Man;
Shall Jove, for one, extend the narrow Span,
Whose Bounds were fix'd before his Race began?
How many Sons of Gods, foredoom'd to Death,
Before proud Ilion must resign their Breath!
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And murm'ring Pow'rs condemn their partial Jove.
Give the bold Chief a glorious Fate in Fight;
And when th'ascending Soul has wing'd her Flight,
Let Sleep and Death convey, by thy Command,
The breathless Body to his Native Land.
His Friends and People, to his future Praise,
A Marble Tomb and Pyramid shall raise,
And lasting Honours to his Ashes give;
His Fame ('tis all the Dead can have!) shall live.
She said; the Cloud-Compeller overcome,
Assents to Fate, and ratifies the Doom.
Then, touch'd with Grief, the weeping Heav'ns distill'd
A Show'r of Blood o'er all the fatal Field.
The God, his Eyes averting from the Plain,
Laments his Son, predestin'd to be slain,
Far from the Lycian Shores, his happy Native Reign.
Assents to Fate, and ratifies the Doom.
Then, touch'd with Grief, the weeping Heav'ns distill'd
A Show'r of Blood o'er all the fatal Field.
The God, his Eyes averting from the Plain,
Laments his Son, predestin'd to be slain,
Far from the Lycian Shores, his happy Native Reign.
Now met in Arms the Combatants appear,
Each heav'd the Shield, and pois'd the lifted Spear:
From strong Patroclus' Hand the Jav'lin fled,
And pass'd the Groin of valiant Thrasymed,
The Nerves unbrac'd no more his Bulk sustain,
He falls, and falling, bites the bloody Plain.
Two sounding Darts the Lycian Leader threw,
The first aloof with erring Fury flew,
The next more fatal pierc'd Achilles' Steed,
The gen'rous Pedasus, of Theban Breed;
Fix'd in the Shoulder's Joint, he reel'd around;
Rowl'd in the bloody Dust, and paw'd the slipp'ry Ground.
His sudden Fall the entangled Harness broke;
Each Axle groan'd; the bounding Chariot shook;
When bold Automedon, to disengage
The starting Coursers, and restrain their Rage,
Divides the Traces with his Sword, and freed
Th'incumber'd Chariot from the dying Steed:
The rest move on, obedient to the Rein;
The Car rowls slowly o'er the dusty Plain.
Each heav'd the Shield, and pois'd the lifted Spear:
From strong Patroclus' Hand the Jav'lin fled,
And pass'd the Groin of valiant Thrasymed,
The Nerves unbrac'd no more his Bulk sustain,
He falls, and falling, bites the bloody Plain.
Two sounding Darts the Lycian Leader threw,
The first aloof with erring Fury flew,
The next more fatal pierc'd Achilles' Steed,
The gen'rous Pedasus, of Theban Breed;
Fix'd in the Shoulder's Joint, he reel'd around;
Rowl'd in the bloody Dust, and paw'd the slipp'ry Ground.
His sudden Fall the entangled Harness broke;
Each Axle groan'd; the bounding Chariot shook;
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The starting Coursers, and restrain their Rage,
Divides the Traces with his Sword, and freed
Th'incumber'd Chariot from the dying Steed:
The rest move on, obedient to the Rein;
The Car rowls slowly o'er the dusty Plain.
The towring Chiefs to fiercer Fight advance,
And first Sarpedon tost his weighty Lance,
Which o'er the Warrior's Shoulder took its Course,
And spent, in empty Air, its dying Force.
Not so Patroclus never-erring Dart;
Aim'd at his Breast, it pierc'd the mortal Part
Where the strong Fibres bind the solid Heart.
Then as the stately Pine, or Poplar tall,
Hewn for the Mast of some great Admiral,
Nods, groans, and reels, 'till with a crackling Sound
It sinks, and spreads its Honours on the Ground;
Thus fell the King; and laid on Earth Supine,
Before his Chariot stretch'd his Form divine:
He grasp'd the Dust, distain'd with streaming Gore,
And, pale in Death, lay groaning on the Shore.
So lyes a Bull beneath the Lion's Paws,
While the grim Savage grinds with foamy Jaws
The trembling Limbs, and sucks the smoking Blood;
Deep Groans and hollow Roars rebellow thro' the Wood.
And first Sarpedon tost his weighty Lance,
Which o'er the Warrior's Shoulder took its Course,
And spent, in empty Air, its dying Force.
Not so Patroclus never-erring Dart;
Aim'd at his Breast, it pierc'd the mortal Part
Where the strong Fibres bind the solid Heart.
Then as the stately Pine, or Poplar tall,
Hewn for the Mast of some great Admiral,
Nods, groans, and reels, 'till with a crackling Sound
It sinks, and spreads its Honours on the Ground;
Thus fell the King; and laid on Earth Supine,
Before his Chariot stretch'd his Form divine:
He grasp'd the Dust, distain'd with streaming Gore,
And, pale in Death, lay groaning on the Shore.
So lyes a Bull beneath the Lion's Paws,
While the grim Savage grinds with foamy Jaws
The trembling Limbs, and sucks the smoking Blood;
Deep Groans and hollow Roars rebellow thro' the Wood.
Then to the Leader of the Lycian Band,
The dying Chief address'd his last Command.
Glaucus, be bold, Thy Task be first to dare
The glorious Dangers of destructive War,
To lead my Troops, to combate at their Head,
Incite the Living, and supply the Dead.
Tell 'em, I charg'd them with my latest Breath,
Not unreveng'd to bear Sarpedon's Death.
What Grief, what Shame must Glaucus undergo,
If these spoil'd Arms adorn a Grecian Foe?
Then as a Friend, and as a Warrior, fight;
Defend my Corps, and conquer in my Right;
That taught by great Examples, All may try
Like thee to vanquish, or like me to die.
The dying Chief address'd his last Command.
Glaucus, be bold, Thy Task be first to dare
461
To lead my Troops, to combate at their Head,
Incite the Living, and supply the Dead.
Tell 'em, I charg'd them with my latest Breath,
Not unreveng'd to bear Sarpedon's Death.
What Grief, what Shame must Glaucus undergo,
If these spoil'd Arms adorn a Grecian Foe?
Then as a Friend, and as a Warrior, fight;
Defend my Corps, and conquer in my Right;
That taught by great Examples, All may try
Like thee to vanquish, or like me to die.
He ceas'd; the Fates supprest his lab'ring Breath,
And his Eyes darken'd with the Shades of Death:
Th'insulting Victor with Disdain bestrode
The prostrate Prince, and on his Bosom trod;
Then drew the Weapon from his panting Heart,
The reeking Fibres clinging to the Dart;
From the wide Wound gush'd out a Stream of Blood,
And the Soul issu'd in the Purple Flood.
And his Eyes darken'd with the Shades of Death:
Th'insulting Victor with Disdain bestrode
The prostrate Prince, and on his Bosom trod;
Then drew the Weapon from his panting Heart,
The reeking Fibres clinging to the Dart;
From the wide Wound gush'd out a Stream of Blood,
And the Soul issu'd in the Purple Flood.
Then thus to Phœbus, in the Realms above,
Spoke from his Throne the Cloud-compelling Jove:
Descend my Phœbus, on the Phrygian Plain,
And from the Fight convey Sarpedon slain;
Then bathe his Body in the crystal Flood,
With Dust dishonour'd, and deform'd with Blood:
O'er all his Limbs Ambrosial Odours shed,
And with Celestial Robes adorn the mighty Dead.
Those Honours paid, his sacred Corps bequeath
To the soft Arms of silent Sleep and Death;
They to his Friends the mournful Charge shall bear;
His Friends a Tomb and Pyramid shall rear;
These unavailing Rites he may receive,
These, after Death, are All a God can give!
Spoke from his Throne the Cloud-compelling Jove:
Descend my Phœbus, on the Phrygian Plain,
And from the Fight convey Sarpedon slain;
Then bathe his Body in the crystal Flood,
With Dust dishonour'd, and deform'd with Blood:
O'er all his Limbs Ambrosial Odours shed,
And with Celestial Robes adorn the mighty Dead.
Those Honours paid, his sacred Corps bequeath
To the soft Arms of silent Sleep and Death;
They to his Friends the mournful Charge shall bear;
His Friends a Tomb and Pyramid shall rear;
462
These, after Death, are All a God can give!
Apollo bows, and from Mount Ida's Height
Swift to the Field precipitates his Flight;
Thence, from the War, the breathless Hero bore,
Veil'd in a Cloud, to silver Simois Shore:
There bath'd his honourable Wounds, and drest
His Manly Members in th'Immortal Vest,
And with Perfumes of sweet Ambrosial Dews,
Restores his Freshness, and his Form renews.
Then Sleep and Death, two Twins of winged Race,
Of matchless Swiftness, but of silent Pace,
Receiv'd Sarpedon, at the God's Command,
And in a Moment reach'd the Lycian Land;
The Corps amidst his weeping Friends they laid,
Where endless Honours wait the Sacred Shade.
Swift to the Field precipitates his Flight;
Thence, from the War, the breathless Hero bore,
Veil'd in a Cloud, to silver Simois Shore:
There bath'd his honourable Wounds, and drest
His Manly Members in th'Immortal Vest,
And with Perfumes of sweet Ambrosial Dews,
Restores his Freshness, and his Form renews.
Then Sleep and Death, two Twins of winged Race,
Of matchless Swiftness, but of silent Pace,
Receiv'd Sarpedon, at the God's Command,
And in a Moment reach'd the Lycian Land;
The Corps amidst his weeping Friends they laid,
Where endless Honours wait the Sacred Shade.
| Pastoral poetry and an essay on criticism (1961) | |