black death secure; So might my life and glory know no bound, Like Pallas worshipp'd, like the sun renown'd! As the next dawn, the last they shall enjoy, Shall crush the Greeks, and end the woes of Troy." The leader spoke. From all his host around Shouts of applause along the shores resound. Each from the yoke the smoking steeds untied, And fix'd their headstalls to his chariot-side. Fat sheep and oxen from the town are led, With generous wine, and all-sustaining bread, Full hecatombs lay burning on the shore: The winds to heaven the curling vapours bore. Ungrateful offering to the immortal powers!(197) Whose wrath hung heavy o'er the Trojan towers: Nor Priam nor his sons obtain'd their grace; Proud Troy they hated, and her guilty race. The troops exulting sat in order round, And beaming fires illumined all the ground. As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night,(198) O'er heaven's pure azure spreads her sacred light, When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene, Around her throne the vivid planets roll, And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole, O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, And tip with silver every mountain's head: Then shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, A flood of glory bursts from all the skies: The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light. So many flames before proud Ilion blaze, And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays. The long reflections of the distant fires Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires. A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild, And shoot a shady lustre o'er the field. Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend, Whose umber'd arms, by fits, thick flashes send, Loud neigh the coursers o'er their heaps of corn, And ardent warriors wait the rising morn. [Illustration: THE SHIELD OF ACHILLES.] THE SHIE