Full fifty more from Athens stem the main, Led by Menestheus through the liquid plain. (Athens the fair, where great Erectheus sway’d, That owed his nurture to the blue-eyed maid, But from the teeming furrow took his birth, The mighty offspring of the foodful earth. Him Pallas placed amidst her wealthy fane, Adored with sacrifice and oxen slain; Where, as the years revolve, her altars blaze, And all the tribes resound the goddess’ praise.) No chief like thee, Menestheus! Greece could yield, To marshal armies in the dusty field, The extended wings of battle to display, Or close the embodied host in firm array. Nestor alone, improved by length of days, For martial conduct bore an equal praise. With these appear the Salaminian bands, Whom the gigantic Telamon commands; In twelve black ships to Troy they steer their course, And with the great Athenians join their force. Next move to war the generous Argive train, From high Trœzenè, and Maseta’s plain, And fair Ægina circled by the main: Whom strong Tyrinthe’s lofty walls surround, And Epidaure with viny harvests crown’d: And where fair Asinen and Hermoin show Their cliffs above, and ample bay below. These by the brave Euryalus were led, Great Sthenelus, and greater Diomed; But chief Tydides bore the sovereign sway: In fourscore barks they plough the watery way. The proud Mycenè arms her martial powers, Cleonè, Corinth, with imperial towers,[103] Fair Aræthyrea, Ornia’s fruitful plain, And Ægion, and Adrastus’ ancient reign; And those who dwell along the sandy shore, And where Pellenè yields her fleecy store, Where Helicè and Hyperesia lie, And Gonoëssa’s spires salute the sky. Great Agamemnon rules the numerous band, A hundred vessels in long order stand, And crowded nations wait his dread command. High on the deck the king of men appears, And his refulgent arms in triumph wears; Proud of his host, unrivall’d in his reign, In silent pomp he moves along the main. His brother follows, and to vengeance warms The hardy Spartans, exercised in arms: Phares and Brysia’s valiant troops, and those Whom Lacedæmon’s lofty hills inclose; Or Messé’s towers for silver doves renown’d, Amyclæ, Laäs, Augia’s happy ground, And those whom Œtylos’ low walls contain, And Helos, on the margin of the main. These, o’er the bending ocean, Helen’s cause, In sixty ships with Menelaus draws: Eager and loud from man to man he flies, Revenge and fury flaming in his eyes; While vainly fond, in fancy oft he hears The fair one’s grief, and sees her falling tears.