octave

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the mighty dead! Great Ajax mark'd the growing storm from far, And thus bespoke his brother of the war: "Our fatal day, alas! is come, my friend; And all our wars and glories at an end! 'Tis not this corse alone we guard in vain, Condemn'd to vultures on the Trojan plain; We too must yield: the same sad fate must fall On thee, on me, perhaps, my friend, on all. See what a tempest direful Hector spreads, And lo! it bursts, it thunders on our heads! Call on our Greeks, if a

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and details their histories. 113 --_No wonder,_ &c. Zeuxis, the celebrated artist, is said to have appended these lines to his picture of Helen, as a motto. Valer Max. iii. 7. 114 The early epic was largely occupied with the exploits and sufferings of women, or heroines, the wives and daughters of the Grecian heroes. A nation of courageous, hardy, indefatigable women, dwelling apart from men, permitting only a short temporary intercourse, for the purpose of renovating their numbers, burning out their right breast with a view of enabling themselves to draw the bow freely; this was at once a general type, stimulating to the fancy of the poet, and a theme eminently popular with his hearers. We find these warlike females constantly reappearing in the ancient poems, and universally accepted as past realities in the Iliad. When Priam wishes to illustrate emphatically the most numerous host in which he ever found himself included, he tells us that it was assembled in Phrygia, on the banks of the Sangarius, for the purpose of resisting the formidable Amazons. When Bellerophon is to be employed in a deadly and perilous undertaking, by those who prudently wished to procure his death, he is despatched against the Amazons.--Grote, vol. i p. 289. 115 --_Antenor,_ like Ćneas, had always been favourable to the restoration of Helen. Liv 1. 2. 116 "His lab'ring heart with sudden rapture seized He paus'd, and on the ground in silence gazed. Unskill'd and uninspired he seems to stand, Nor lifts the eye, nor graceful moves the hand: Then, while the chiefs in still attention hung, Pours the full tide of eloquence along; While from his lips the melting torrent flows, Soft as the fleeces of descending snows. Now stronger notes engage the listening crowd, Louder the accents rise, and ye