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Item No. comdagen-6602032538171591741
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but she soon saw that her friend had an excellent reason for what she did, for Mr. Collins would undoubtedly have been much less in his own apartment, had they sat in one equally lively; and she gave Charlotte credit for the arrangement. From the drawing-room they could distinguish nothing in the lane, and were indebted to Mr. Collins for the knowledge of what carriages went along, and how often especially Miss de Bourgh drove by in her phaeton, which he never failed coming to inform them of,

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the gods. First rosy Venus felt his brutal rage; Me next he charged, and dares all heaven engage: The wretch would brave high heaven's immortal sire, His triple thunder, and his bolts of fire." The god of battle issues on the plain, Stirs all the ranks, and fires the Trojan train; In form like Acamas, the Thracian guide, Enraged to Troy's retiring chiefs he cried: "How long, ye sons of Priam! will ye fly, And unrevenged see Priam's people die? Still unresisted shall the foe destroy, And stretch the slaughter to the gates of Troy? Lo, brave Ćneas sinks beneath his wound, Not godlike Hector more in arms renown'd: Haste all, and take the generous warrior's part. He said;--new courage swell'd each hero's heart. Sarpedon first his ardent soul express'd, And, turn'd to Hector, these bold words address'd: "Say, chief, is all thy ancient valour lost? Where are thy threats, and where thy glorious boast, That propp'd alone by Priam's race should stand Troy's sacred walls, nor need a foreign hand? Now, now thy country calls her wonted friends, And the proud vaunt in just derision ends. Remote they stand while alien troops engage, Like trembling hounds before the lion's rage. Far distant hence I held my wide command, Where foaming Xanthus laves the Lycian land; With ample wealth (the wish of mortals) bless'd, A beauteous wife, and infant at her breast; With those I left whatever dear could be: Greece, if she conquers, nothing wins from me; Yet first in fight my Lycian bands I cheer, And long to meet this mighty man ye fear; While Hector idle stands, nor bids the brave Their wives, their infants, and their altars save. Haste, warrior, haste! preserve thy threaten'd state, Or one vast burst of all-involving fate Full o'er your towers shall fall, and sweep away Sons, sires, and wives, an undistinguish'd prey. Rouse all thy Trojans, urge thy aids to fight; These claim thy thoughts by day, thy wa