108
Poems on
My Strength is fail'd, and ev'n my Feet refuse
To bear so great a load of Wretchedness!
To bear so great a load of Wretchedness!
But if thy wakeful Cares (for o'er thy Head
Wakeful the Hours glide on) have aught matur'd
Useful, the Thought unfold; but rife, my Friend,
Visit with me the Watches of the Night,
Left tir'd they sleep, while Troy with all her War
Hangs o'er our Tents, and now, perhaps e'en now
Arms her proud Bands. Arise, my Friend, arise!
Wakeful the Hours glide on) have aught matur'd
Useful, the Thought unfold; but rife, my Friend,
Visit with me the Watches of the Night,
Left tir'd they sleep, while Troy with all her War
Hangs o'er our Tents, and now, perhaps e'en now
Arms her proud Bands. Arise, my Friend, arise!
To whom the Pylian: Think not, mighty King,
Jove ratifies vain Hector's haughty Views;
A sudden, sad Reverse of mighty Woes
Waits that audacious Victor, when in Arms
Dreadful Achilles shines. But now thy Steps
Nestor attends: Be it our Care to wake
Sage Ithacus, and Diomed the brave,
Jove ratifies vain Hector's haughty Views;
A sudden, sad Reverse of mighty Woes
Waits that audacious Victor, when in Arms
Dreadful Achilles shines. But now thy Steps
Nestor attends: Be it our Care to wake
Sage Ithacus, and Diomed the brave,
Meges
