In ninety sail, from Pylos’ sandy coast, Nestor the sage conducts his chosen host: From Amphigenia’s ever-fruitful land, Where Æpy high, and little Pteleon stand; Where beauteous Arene her structures shows, And Thryon’s walls Alpheus’ streams inclose: And Dorion, famed for Thamyris’ disgrace, Superior once of all the tuneful race, Till, vain of mortals’ empty praise, he strove To match the seed of cloud-compelling Jove! Too daring bard! whose unsuccessful pride The immortal Muses in their art defied. The avenging Muses of the light of day Deprived his eyes, and snatch’d his voice away; No more his heavenly voice was heard to sing, His hand no more awaked the silver string. Where under high Cyllenè, crown’d with wood, The shaded tomb of old Æpytus stood; From Ripè, Stratie, Tegea’s bordering towns, The Phenean fields, and Orchomenian downs, Where the fat herds in plenteous pasture rove; And Stymphelus with her surrounding grove; Parrhasia, on her snowy cliffs reclined, And high Enispè shook by wintry wind, And fair Mantinea’s ever-pleasing site; In sixty sail the Arcadian bands unite. Bold Agapenor, glorious at their head, (Ancæus’ son) the mighty squadron led. Their ships, supplied by Agamemnon’s care, Through roaring seas the wondering warriors bear; The first to battle on the appointed plain, But new to all the dangers of the main. Those, where fair Elis and Buprasium join; Whom Hyrmin, here, and Myrsinus confine, And bounded there, where o’er the valleys rose The Olenian rock; and where Alisium flows; Beneath four chiefs (a numerous army) came: The strength and glory of the Epean name. In separate squadrons these their train divide, Each leads ten vessels through the yielding tide. One was Amphimachus, and Thalpius one; (Eurytus’ this, and that Teätus’ son;) Diores sprung from Amarynceus’ line; And great Polyxenus, of force divine. But those who view fair Elis o’er the seas From the blest islands of the Echinades, In forty vessels under Meges move, Begot by Phyleus, the beloved of Jove: To strong Dulichium from his sire he fled, And thence to Troy his hardy warriors led. Ulysses follow’d through the watery road, A chief, in wisdom equal to a god. With those whom Cephalenia’s line inclosed, Or till their fields along the coast opposed; Or where fair Ithaca o’erlooks the floods, Where high Neritos shakes his waving woods, Where Ægilipa’s rugged sides are seen, Crocylia rocky, and Zacynthus green. These in twelve galleys with vermilion prores, Beneath his conduct sought the Phrygian shores. Thoas came next, Andræmon’s valiant son, From Pleuron’s walls, and chalky Calydon, And rough Pylene, and the Olenian steep, And Chalcis, beaten by the rolling deep. He led the warriors from the Ætolian shore, For now the sons of Œneus were no more! The glories of the mighty race were fled! Œneus himself, and Meleager dead! To Thoas’ care now trust the martial train, His forty vessels follow through the main.