ease a sovereign and relieve a sire: But now the last despair surrounds our host; No hour must pass, no moment must be lost; Each single Greek, in this conclusive strife, Stands on the sharpest edge of death or life: Yet, if my years thy kind regard engage, Employ thy youth as I employ my age; Succeed to these my cares, and rouse the rest; He serves me most, who serves his country best." This said, the hero o'er his shoulders flung A lion's spoils, that to his ankles hung; Then seized his ponderous lance, and strode along. Meges the bold, with Ajax famed for speed, The warrior roused, and to the entrenchments lead. And now the chiefs approach the nightly guard; A wakeful squadron, each in arms prepared: The unwearied watch their listening leaders keep, And, couching close, repel invading sleep. So faithful dogs their fleecy charge maintain, With toil protected from the prowling train; When the gaunt lioness, with hunger bold, Springs from the mountains toward the guarded fold: Through breaking woods her rustling course they hear; Loud, and more loud, the clamours strike their ear Of hounds and men: they start, they gaze around, Watch every side, and turn to every sound. Thus watch'd the Grecians, cautious of surprise, Each voice, each motion, drew their ears and eyes: Each step of passing feet increased the affright; And hostile Troy was ever full in sight. Nestor with joy the wakeful band survey'd, And thus accosted through the gloomy shade. "'Tis well, my sons! your nightly cares employ; Else must our host become the scorn of Troy. Watch thus, and Greece shall live." The hero said; Then o'er the trench the following chieftains led. His son, and godlike Merion, march'd behind (For these the princes to their council join'd). The trenches pass'd, the assembled kings around In silent state the consistory crown'd. A place there was, yet undefiled with gore, The spot where Hector stopp'