Then, turning back, the sacrifice they sped, The fatted oxen slew, and flayed the dead; Chopped off their nervous thighs, and next prepared To involve the lean in cauls, and mend with lard. Sweet-breads and collops were with skewers pricked About the sides, imbibing what they decked. The priest with holy hands was seen to tine The cloven wood, and pour the ruddy wine. The youth approached the fire, and, as it burned, On five sharp broachers ranked, the roast they turned; These morsels stayed their stomachs, then the rest They cut in legs and fillets for the feast; Which drawn and served, their hunger they appease With savoury meat, and set their minds at ease. Now when the rage of eating was repelled, The boys with generous wine the goblets filled: The first libations to the gods they pour, And then with songs indulge the genial hour. Holy debauch! Till day to night they bring, With hymns and pæans to the bowyer king. At sun-set to their ship they make return, And snore secure on decks till rosy morn. The skies with dawning day were purpled o'er; Awaked, with labouring oars they leave the shore; The Power appeased, with wind sufficed the sail, The bellying canvas strutted with the gale; The waves indignant roar with surly pride, And press against the sides, and, beaten off, divide. They cut the foamy way, with force impelled Superior, till the Trojan port they held; Then, hauling on the strand, their galley moor, And pitch their tents along the crooked shore. Meantime the goddess-born in secret pined, Nor visited the camp, nor in the council joined; But, keeping close, his gnawing heart he fed With hopes of vengeance on the tyrant's head; And wished for bloody wars and mortal wounds, And of the Greeks oppressed in fight to hear the dying sounds. Now when twelve days complete had run their race, The gods bethought them of the cares belonging to their place. Jove at their head ascending from the sea, A shoal of puny Powers attend his way. Then Thetis, not unmindful of her son, Emerging from the deep to beg her boon, Pursued their track, and wakened from his rest, Before the sovereign stood, a morning guest. Him in the circle, but apart, she found; The rest at awful distance stood around. She bowed, and, ere she durst her suit begin, One hand embraced his knees, one prop'd his chin; Then thus.--If I, celestial sire, in aught Have served thy will, or gratified thy thought, One glimpse of glory to my issue give, Graced for the little time he has to live! Dishonoured by the king of men he stands; His rightful prize is ravished from his hands. But thou, O father, in my son's defence, Assume thy power, assert thy providence. Let Troy prevail, till Greece the affront has paid