of May. The quiver'd Dian, sister of the day, (Her golden arrows sounding at her side,) Saturnia, majesty of heaven, defied. With fiery Vulcan last in battle stands The sacred flood that rolls on golden sands; Xanthus his name with those of heavenly birth, But called Scamander by the sons of earth. While thus the gods in various league engage, Achilles glow'd with more than mortal rage: Hector he sought; in search of Hector turn'd His eyes around, for Hector only burn'd; And burst like lightning through the ranks, and vow'd To glut the god of battles with his blood. Ćneas was the first who dared to stay; Apollo wedged him in the warrior's way, But swell'd his bosom with undaunted might, Half-forced and half-persuaded to the fight. Like young Lycaon, of the royal line, In voice and aspect, seem'd the power divine; And bade the chief reflect, how late with scorn In distant threats he braved the goddess-born. Then thus the hero of Anchises' strain: "To meet Pelides you persuade in vain: Already have I met, nor void of fear Observed the fury of his flying spear; From Ida's woods he chased us to the field, Our force he scattered, and our herds he kill'd; Lyrnessus, Pedasus in ashes lay; But (Jove assisting) I survived the day: Else had I sunk oppress'd in fatal fight By fierce Achilles and Minerva's might. Where'er he moved, the goddess shone before, And bathed his brazen lance in hostile gore. What mortal man Achilles can sustain? The immortals guard him through the dreadful plain, And suffer not his dart to fall in vain. Were God my aid, this arm should check his power, Though strong in battle as a brazen tower." To whom the son of Jove: "That god implore, And be what great Achilles was before. From heavenly Venus thou deriv'st thy strain, And he but from a sister of the main; An aged sea-god father of his line; But Jove himself the sacred source of thine. Then lift thy weapo