Now had the Grecians snatch'd a short repast, And buckled on their shining arms with haste. Troy roused as soon; for on this dreadful day The fate of fathers, wives, and infants lay. The gates unfolding pour forth all their train; Squadrons on squadrons cloud the dusky plain: Men, steeds, and chariots shake the trembling ground, The tumult thickens, and the skies resound; And now with shouts the shocking armies closed, To lances lances, shields to shields opposed, Host against host with shadowy legends drew, The sounding darts in iron tempests flew; Victors and vanquish'd join promiscuous cries, Triumphant shouts and dying groans arise; With streaming blood the slippery fields are dyed, And slaughter'd heroes swell the dreadful tide. Long as the morning beams, increasing bright, O'er heaven's clear azure spread the sacred light, Commutual death the fate of war confounds, Each adverse battle gored with equal wounds. But when the sun the height of heaven ascends, The sire of gods his golden scales suspends,(192) With equal hand: in these explored the fate Of Greece and Troy, and poised the mighty weight: Press'd with its load, the Grecian balance lies Low sunk on earth, the Trojan strikes the skies. Then Jove from Ida's top his horrors spreads; The clouds burst dreadful o'er the Grecian heads; Thick lightnings flash; the muttering thunder rolls; Their strength he withers, and unmans their souls. Before his wrath the trembling hosts retire; The gods in terrors, and the skies on fire. Nor great Idomeneus that sight could bear, Nor each stern Ajax, thunderbolts of war: Nor he, the king of war, the alarm sustain'd Nestor alone, amidst the storm remain'd. Unwilling he remain'd, for Paris' dart Had pierced his courser in a mortal part; Fix'd in the forehead, where the springing man Curl'd o'er the brow, it stung him to the brain; Mad with his anguish, he begins to rear, Paw with his hoofs