FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   414   415   416   417   418   419   420   421   422   423   424   425   426   427   428   429   430   431   432   433   434   435   436   437   438  
439   440   441   442   443   444   445   446   447   448   449   450   451   452   453   454   455   456   457   458   459   460   461   462   463   >>   >|  
volence of mind, Are true, my son! (the godlike sire rejoin'd:) Great are my hazards; but the gods survey My steps, and send thee, guardian of my way. Hail, and be bless'd! For scarce of mortal kind Appear thy form, thy feature, and thy mind." "Nor true are all thy words, nor erring wide; (The sacred messenger of heaven replied;) But say, convey'st thou through the lonely plains What yet most precious of thy store remains, To lodge in safety with some friendly hand: Prepared, perchance, to leave thy native land? Or fliest thou now?--What hopes can Troy retain, Thy matchless son, her guard and glory, slain?" The king, alarm'd: "Say what, and whence thou art Who search the sorrows of a parent's heart, And know so well how godlike Hector died?" Thus Priam spoke, and Hermes thus replied: "You tempt me, father, and with pity touch: On this sad subject you inquire too much. Oft have these eyes that godlike Hector view'd In glorious fight, with Grecian blood embrued: I saw him when, like Jove, his flames he toss'd On thousand ships, and wither'd half a host: I saw, but help'd not: stern Achilles' ire Forbade assistance, and enjoy'd the fire. For him I serve, of Myrmidonian race; One ship convey'd us from our native place; Polyctor is my sire, an honour'd name, Old like thyself, and not unknown to fame; Of seven his sons, by whom the lot was cast To serve our prince, it fell on me, the last. To watch this quarter, my adventure falls: For with the morn the Greeks attack your walls; Sleepless they sit, impatient to engage, And scarce their rulers check their martial rage." "If then thou art of stern Pelides' train, (The mournful monarch thus rejoin'd again,) Ah tell me truly, where, oh! where are laid My son's dear relics? what befals him dead? Have dogs dismember'd (on the naked plains), Or yet unmangled rest, his cold remains?" "O favour'd of the skies! (thus answered then The power that mediates between god and men) Nor dogs nor vultures have thy Hector rent, But whole he lies, neglected in the tent: This the twelfth evening since he rested there, Untouch'd by worms, untainted by the air. Still as Aurora's ruddy beam is spread, Round his friend's tomb Achilles drags the dead: Yet undisfigured, or in limb or face, All fresh he lies, with every living grace, Majestical in death! No stains are found
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   414   415   416   417   418   419   420   421   422   423   424   425   426   427   428   429   430   431   432   433   434   435   436   437   438  
439   440   441   442   443   444   445   446   447   448   449   450   451   452   453   454   455   456   457   458   459   460   461   462   463   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

Hector

 

godlike

 

convey

 
plains
 
remains
 

native

 
Achilles
 

scarce

 

rejoin

 

replied


engage
 

unknown

 

rulers

 

martial

 

thyself

 
Pelides
 

mournful

 

impatient

 

honour

 
quarter

prince

 
monarch
 

adventure

 

Sleepless

 

Greeks

 

attack

 

Aurora

 
spread
 

friend

 

rested


Untouch

 

untainted

 

Majestical

 

stains

 

living

 

undisfigured

 

evening

 

dismember

 

unmangled

 

Polyctor


befals

 

relics

 

favour

 

neglected

 

twelfth

 

vultures

 
answered
 

mediates

 

friendly

 

Prepared