fame The son of Borus, that espoused the dame. Eudorus next; whom Polymele the gay, Famed in the graceful dance, produced to-day. Her, sly Cellenius loved: on her would gaze, As with swift step she form'd the running maze: To her high chamber from Diana's quire, The god pursued her, urged, and crown'd his fire. The son confess'd his father's heavenly race, And heir'd his mother's swiftness in the chase. Strong Echecleus, bless'd in all those charms That pleased a god, succeeded to her arms; Not conscious of those loves, long hid from fame, With gifts of price he sought and won the dame; Her secret offspring to her sire she bare; Her sire caress'd him with a parent's care. Pisander follow'd; matchless in his art To wing the spear, or aim the distant dart; No hand so sure of all the Emathian line, Or if a surer, great Patroclus! thine. The fourth by Phoenix' grave command was graced, Laerces' valiant offspring led the last. Soon as Achilles with superior care Had call'd the chiefs, and order'd all the war, This stern remembrance to his troops he gave: "Ye far-famed Myrmidons, ye fierce and brave! Think with what threats you dared the Trojan throng, Think what reproach these ears endured so long; 'Stern son of Peleus, (thus ye used to say, While restless, raging, in your ships you lay) Oh nursed with gall, unknowing how to yield; Whose rage defrauds us of so famed a field: If that dire fury must for ever burn, What make we here? Return, ye chiefs, return!' Such were your words--Now, warriors! grieve no more, Lo there the Trojans; bathe your swords in gore! This day shall give you all your soul demands, Glut all your hearts, and weary all your hands!" [Illustration: DIANA.] DIANA. Thus while he roused the fire in every breast, Close and more close the listening cohorts press'd; Ranks wedged in ranks; of arms a steely ring