s.

As some labourer ears close-cluster'd lustily lopping,
Under a flaming sun, mows fields ripe-yellow in harvest,
_So, in fury of heart, shall death's stern reaper, Achilles_,
Charge Troy's children afield and fell them grimly with iron. 355
Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Deeds of such high glory Scamander's river avoucheth,
Hurried in eddies afar thro' boisterous Hellespontus;
Then when a slaughter'd heap his pathway watery choking,
Brimmeth a warm red tide and blood with water allieth. 360
Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Voucher of him last riseth a prey untimely devoted
E'en to the tomb, which mounded in heaps, high, spherical, earthen,
Grants to the snow-white limbs, to the stricken maiden a welcome.
Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles. 365

Scarcely the war-worn Greeks shall win such favour of heaven,
Neptune's bonds of stone from Dardan city to loosen,
Dankly that high-heav'd grave shall gory Polyxena crimson.
She as a lamb falls smitten a twin-edg'd falchion under,
Boweth on earth weak knees, her limbs down flingeth unheeding. 370
Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Up then, fair paramours, in fond love happily mingle.
Now in blessed treaty the bridegroom welcome a goddess;
Now give a bride long-veil'd to her husband's passionate yearning.
Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles. 375

Her when duly the nurse with day-light early revisits,
Necklace of yester-night--she shall not clasp it about her.
Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

Nor shall a mother fond, o'er brawls unlovely dishearten'd,
Lay her alone, or cease the delight of children awaiting. 380
Trail ye a long-drawn thread and run with destiny, spindles.

In such prelude old, such good-night ditty to Peleus,
Sang their deep divination, ineffable, holy, the Parcae.
Such as in ages past, upon houses godly descending,
Houses of heroes came, in mortal company present, 385
Gods high-throned in heaven, while yet was worship in honour.

Often a sovran Jove, in his own bright temple appearing,
Yearly, whene'er his day did rites ceremonial usher,
Gazed on an hundred s