have I beheld; But ne'er till now such numbers charged a field: Thick as autumnal leaves or driving sand, The moving squadrons blacken all the strand. Thou, godlike Hector! all thy force employ, Assemble all the united bands of Troy; In just array let every leader call The foreign troops: this day demands them all!" The voice divine the mighty chief alarms; The council breaks, the warriors rush to arms. The gates unfolding pour forth all their train, Nations on nations fill the dusky plain, Men, steeds, and chariots, shake the trembling ground: The tumult thickens, and the skies resound. Amidst the plain, in sight of Ilion, stands A rising mount, the work of human hands; (This for Myrinne's tomb the immortals know, Though call'd Bateia in the world below;) Beneath their chiefs in martial order here, The auxiliar troops and Trojan hosts appear. The godlike Hector, high above the rest, Shakes his huge spear, and nods his plumy crest: In throngs around his native bands repair, And groves of lances glitter in the air. Divine Ćneas brings the Dardan race, Anchises' son, by Venus' stolen embrace, Born in the shades of Ida's secret grove; (A mortal mixing with the queen of love;) Archilochus and Acamas divide The warrior's toils, and combat by his side. Who fair Zeleia's wealthy valleys till,(106) Fast by the foot of Ida's sacred hill, Or drink, Ćsepus, of thy sable flood, Were led by Pandarus, of royal blood; To whom his art Apollo deign'd to show, Graced with the presents of his shafts and bow. From rich Apaesus and Adrestia's towers, High Teree's summits, and Pityea's bowers; From these the congregated troops obey Young Amphius and Adrastus' equal sway; Old Merops' sons; whom, skill'd in fates to come, The sire forewarn'd, and prophesied their doom: Fate urged them on! the sire forewarn'd in vain, They rush'd to war, and perish'd on the plain. From Practius' stream, Percote's