BOOK XXIV.

CYLLENIUS now to Pluto's dreary reign
Conveys the dead, a lamentable train!
The golden wand, that causes sleep to fly,
Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye,
That drives the ghosts to realms of night or day, 5
Points out the long uncomfortable way.
Trembling the spectres glide, and plaintiye vent
Thin hollow screams, along the deep descent.
As in the cavern of some rifted den,

Where flock nocturnal bats, and birds obscene, 10
Cluster'd they hang, till at some sudden shock,
They move, and murmurs run thro' all the rock:
So cow'ring fled the sable heaps of ghosts;
And such a scream fill'd all the dismal coasts. 14
And now they reach'd the earth's remotest ends;
And now the gates where ev'ning Sol descends,
And Leucas' rock, and ocean's utmost streams;
And now pervade the dusky land of dreams,
And rest at last, where souls unbodied dwell
In ever-flow'ring meads of asphodel.

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The empty forms of men inhabit there;
Impassive semblance, images of air!

Nought else are all that shin'd on earth before;
Ajax, and great Achilles, are no more!

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Yet still a master-ghost the rest he aw'd,
The rest ador'd him, tow'ring as he trod:
Still at his side is Nestor's son survey'd;
And lov'd Patroclus still attends his shade.
New as they were to that infernal shore,
The suitors stopt, and gaz'd the hero o'er :
When, moving slow, the regal form they view'd
Of great Atrides: him in pomp pursu'd
And solemn sadness, through the gloom of hell,
The train of those who by Egisthus fell.

O mighty chief! (Pelides thus began)
Honour'd by Jove above the lot of man!
King of a hundred kings! to whom resign'd
The strongest, bravest, greatest of mankind;
Com'st thou the first, to view this dreary state?
And was the noblest the first mark of fate?

Condemn'd to pay the great arrear so soon;

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The lot, which all lament, and none can shun! Oh! better hadst thou sunk in Trojan ground, With all thy full-blown honours cover'd round!

Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes might

raise

Historic marbles to record thy praise:

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Thy praise eternal on the faithful stone
Had with transmissive glories grac'd thy son.
But heavier fates were destin'd to attend!
What man is happy, till he knows his end?
O son of Peleus! greater than mankind!
(Thus Agamemnon's kingly shade rejoin'd)
Thrice happy thou! to press the martial plain
Midst heaps of heroes in thy quarrel slain :
In clouds of smoke, rais'd by the noble fray, 55
Great and terrific e'en in death you lay,

And deluges of blood flow'd round you ev'ry way.
Nor ceas'd the strife, till Jove himself oppos'd,
And all in tempests the dire ev'ning clos'd.
Then to the fleet we bore thy honour'd load, 60
And decent on the fun'ral bed bestow'd.
Then unguents sweet and tepid streams we shed;
Tears flow'd from ev'ry eye, and o'er the dead
Each clipt the curling honours of his head.
Struck at the news, thy azure mother came; 65
The sea-green sisters waited on the dame:
A voice of loud lament through all the main
Was heard, and terror seiz'd the Grecian train: