Swoln were his feet, as when the thongs were thrust Through the bored holes; his body black with dust; Unlike that Hector, who returned, from toils Of war, triumphant in Æacian spoils, Or him, who made the fainting Greeks retire, And launched against their navy Phrygian fire. His hair and beard stood stiffened with his gore; And all the wounds he for his country bore, Now streamed afresh, and with new purple ran. } I wept to see the visionary man, } And, while my trance continued, thus began:-- } "O light of Trojans, and support of Troy, Thy father's champion, and thy country's joy! O, long expected by thy friends! from whence Art thou so late returned for our defence? Do we behold thee, wearied as we are, With length of labours, and with toils of war? After so many funerals of thy own, Art thou restored to thy declining town? But say, what wounds are these? what new disgrace Deforms the manly features of thy face?" To this the spectre no reply did frame, But answered to the cause for which he came, And, groaning from the bottom of his breast, This warning, in these mournful words, expressed: "O goddess-born! escape, by timely flight, The flames and horrors of this fatal night. The foes already have possessed the wall; Troy nods from high, and totters to her fall. Enough is paid to Priam's royal name, More than enough to duty and to fame. If by a mortal hand my father's throne Could be defended, 'twas by mine alone. Now Troy to thee commends her future state, And gives her gods companions of thy fate: From their assistance, happier walls expect, Which, wandering long, at last thou shalt erect." He said, and brought me, from their blest abodes, The venerable statues of the gods, With ancient Vesta from the sacred choir, The wreaths and reliques of the immortal fire. Now peals of shouts come thundering from afar, Cries, threats, and loud laments, and mingled war: The noise approaches, though our palace stood Aloof from streets, encompassed with a wood. Louder, and yet more loud, I hear the alarms Of human cries distinct, and clashing arms. Fear broke my slumbers; I no longer stay, } But mount the terrace, thence the town survey, } And hearken what the frightful sounds convey. } Thus, when a flood of fire by wind is borne, Crackling it rolls, and mows the standing corn; Or deluges, descending on the plains, } Sweep o'er the yellow year, destroy the pains } Of labouring oxen, and the peasant's gains; } Unroot the forest oaks, and bear away Flocks, folds, and trees, an undistinguished prey-- The shepherd climbs the cliff, and sees from far The wasteful ravage of the watery war. Then Hector's faith was manifestly cleared, And Grecian frauds in open light appeared.