Tlepolemus, the sun of Hercules,
Led nine swift vessels through the
foamy seas,
From Rhodes, with everlasting
sunshine bright,
Jalyssus, Lindus, and Camirus white.
His captive mother fierce Alcides
bore
From Ephyr's walls and Selle's
winding shore,
Where mighty towns in ruins spread
the plain,
And saw their blooming warriors
early slain.
The hero, when to manly years he
grew,
Alcides' uncle, old Licymnius, slew;
For this, constrain'd to quit his
native place,
And shun the vengeance of the Herculean
race,
A fleet he built, and with a
numerous train
Of willing exiles wander'd o'er the
main;
Where, many seas and many sufferings
past,
On happy Rhodes the chief arrived at
last:
There in three tribes divides his
native band,
And rules them peaceful in a foreign
land;
Increased and prosper'd in their new
abodes
By mighty Jove, the sire of men and
gods;
With joy they saw the growing empire
rise,
And
showers of wealth descending from the skies.
Three ships with Nireus sought the
Trojan shore,
Nireus, whom Aglae to Charopus bore,
Nireus, in faultless shape and
blooming grace,
The loveliest youth of all the
Grecian race;104
Pelides only match'd his early
charms;
But
few his troops, and small his strength in arms.
Next thirty galleys cleave the
liquid plain,
Of those Calydnae's sea-girt isles
contain;
With them the youth of Nisyrus
repair,
Casus the strong, and Crapathus the
fair;
Cos, where Eurypylus possess'd the
sway,
Till great Alcides made the realms
obey:
These Antiphus and bold Phidippus
bring,
Sprung
from the god by Thessalus the king.
Now, Muse, recount Pelasgic Argos'
powers,
From Alos, Alope, and Trechin's
towers:
From Phthia's spacious vales; and
Hella, bless'd
With female beauty far beyond the
rest.
Full fifty ships beneath Achilles'
care,
The Achaians, Myrmidons, Hellenians
bear;
Thessalians all, though various in
their name;
The same their nation, and their
chief the same.
But now inglorious, stretch'd along
the shore,
They hear the brazen voice of war no
more;
No more the foe they face in dire
array:
Close in his fleet the angry leader
lay;
Since fair Briseis from his arms was
torn,
The noblest spoil from sack'd
Lyrnessus borne,
Then, when the chief the Theban
walls o'erthrew,
And the bold sons of great Evenus
slew.
There mourn'd Achilles, plunged in
depth of care,
But
soon to rise in slaughter, blood, and war.
To these the youth of Phylace
succeed,
Itona, famous for her fleecy breed,
And grassy Pteleon deck'd with
cheerful greens,
The bowers of Ceres, and the sylvan
scenes.
Sweet Pyrrhasus, with blooming
flowerets crown'd,
And Antron's watery dens, and
cavern'd ground.
These own'd, as chief, Protesilas
the brave,
Who now lay silent in the gloomy
grave:
The first who boldly touch'd the
Trojan shore,
And dyed a Phrygian lance with
Grecian gore;
There lies, far distant from his
native plain;
Unfinish'd his proud palaces remain,
And his sad consort beats her breast
in vain.
His troops in forty ships Podarces
led,
Iphiclus' son, and brother to the
dead;
Nor he unworthy to command the host;
Yet
still they mourn'd their ancient leader lost.
The men who Glaphyra's fair soil
partake,
Where hills incircle Boebe's lowly
lake,
Where Phaere hears the neighbouring
waters fall,
Or proud Iolcus lifts her airy wall,
In ten black ships embark'd for
Ilion's shore,
With bold Eumelus, whom Alceste
bore:
All Pelias' race Alceste far
outshined,
The
grace and glory of the beauteous kind,
The troops Methone or Thaumacia
yields,
Olizon's rocks, or Meliboea's
fields,
With Philoctetes sail'd whose
matchless art
From the tough bow directs the
feather'd dart.
Seven were his ships; each vessel
fifty row,
Skill'd in his science of the dart
and bow.
But he lay raging on the Lemnian
ground,
A poisonous hydra gave the burning
wound;
There groan'd the chief in agonizing
pain,
Whom Greece at length shall wish,
nor wish in vain.
His forces Medon led from Lemnos'
shore,
Oileus'
son, whom beauteous Rhena bore.
The Œchalian race, in those high
towers contain'd
Where once Eurytus in proud triumph
reign'd,
Or where her humbler turrets Tricca
rears,
Or where Ithome, rough with rocks,
appears,
In thirty sail the sparkling waves
divide,
Which Podalirius and Machaon guide.
To these his skill their parent-god
imparts,
Divine
professors of the healing arts.
n Above the shores are filled with troops from around the world
hell bent on taking troy down for various reasons including personal, economic and political reasons.
They
each had their own goal, many made elfin bows like the sylvans, some made
weapons others people, some healed and used mediocine like madon, where the
word mad as in sick might ciome from.
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