In sad Procession with a Robe repair,
Beat their white Breasts, and rend their golden Hair.
Unmov’d with Pray’rs, disdainfully she frown’d,
And fixt her Eyes, relentless, on the Ground.650
Achilles here, his Vengeance to enjoy,
Thrice dragg’d brave Hector round the Walls of Troy:
Then to the mournful Sire, the Victor sold
The breathless Body of his Son, for Gold.
His Groans now deepened, and new Tears he shed,655
To see the Spoils, and Chariot of the Dead,
And Priam both his trembling Hands extend,
And, gash’d with Wounds, his dear disfigur’d Friend.
Mixt with the Grecian Peers, and hostile Train,
Himself he view’d, conspicuous in the Plain.660
And swarthy Memnon, glorious to behold,
His Eastern Hosts, and Arms that flame with Gold.
With Fury storm’d Penthesilea there,
And led, with moony Shields, her Amazons to War;
Around
