When the wild waves subside, and tempests cease,
And hush their roarings of the sea to peace;
So oft' we see the interrupted strain
Stop'd in the midst, - - - - and with the silent main,
Pause for a space- - - -at last it glides again.
When Priam strains his aged arm, to throw
His unavailing jav'lin at the foe;
(His blood congeal'd, and ev'ry nerve unstrung,)
Then with the theme complies his artful song;
Like him, the solitary numbers flow
Weak, trembling, melancholy, stiff, and slow.
Not so young Pyrrhus, who with rapid force
Beats down embattled armies in his course:
The raging youth on trembling Ilion falls,
Bursts her strong gates, and shakes her lofty walls;
Provokes his flying courser to his speed,
In full career to charge the warlike steed;
He piles the field with mountains of the slain;
He pours, he storms, he thunders thro' the plain.
In this the poet's justest conduct lies,
When with his various subjects he complies,
To sink with judgment, and with judgment rise.
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