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name to the poem, which, in fact, was, great
part of it, remodelled from the archaic dialect of Crete, in which
tongue the ballads were found by him. He therefore called it the
poem of Homeros, or the Collector; but this is rather a proof of
his modesty and talent, than of his mere drudging arrangement of
other people's ideas; for, as Grote has finely observed, arguing
for the unity of authorship, 'a great poet might have re-cast
pre-existing separate songs into one
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where Asius gone?
The godlike father, and th' intrepid son?
The force of Helenus, dispensing fate;
And great Othryoneus, so fear'd of late?
Black fate hang's o'er thee from th' avenging gods,
Imperial Troy from her foundations nods;
Whelm'd in thy country's ruin shalt thou fall,
And one devouring vengeance swallow all."
When Paris thus: "My brother and my friend,
Thy warm impatience makes thy tongue offend,
In other battles I deserved thy blame,
Though then not deedless, nor unknown to fame:
But since yon rampart by thy arms lay low,
I scatter'd slaughter from my fatal bow.
The chiefs you seek on yonder shore lie slain;
Of all those heroes, two alone remain;
Deiphobus, and Helenus the seer,
Each now disabled by a hostile spear.
Go then, successful, where thy soul inspires:
This heart and hand shall second all thy fires:
What with this arm I can, prepare to know,
Till death for death be paid, and blow for blow.
But 'tis not ours, with forces not our own
To combat: strength is of the gods alone."
These words the hero's angry mind assuage:
Then fierce they mingle where the thickest rage.
Around Polydamas, distain'd with blood,
Cebrion, Phalces, stern Orthaeus stood,
Palmus, with Polypoetes the divine,
And two bold brothers of Hippotion's line
(Who reach'd fair Ilion, from Ascania far,
The former day; the next engaged in war).
As when from gloomy clouds a whirlwind springs,
That bears Jove's thunder on its dreadful wings,
Wide o'er the blasted fields the tempest sweeps;
Then, gather'd, settles on the hoary deeps;
The afflicted deeps tumultuous mix and roar;
The waves behind impel the waves before,
Wide rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore:
Thus rank on rank, the thick battalions throng,
Chief urged on chief, and man drove man along.
Far o'er the plains, in dreadful order bright,
The brazen arms reflect a beamy light:
Full in the blazing van great Hector shined,
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