hides all the works of men: The circling seas, alone absorbing all, Drink the dissolving fleeces as they fall: So from each side increased the stony rain, And the white ruin rises o'er the plain. Thus godlike Hector and his troops contend To force the ramparts, and the gates to rend: Nor Troy could conquer, nor the Greeks would yield, Till great Sarpedon tower'd amid the field; For mighty Jove inspired with martial flame His matchless son, and urged him on to fame. In arms he shines, conspicuous from afar, And bears aloft his ample shield in air; Within whose orb the thick bull-hides were roll'd, Ponderous with brass, and bound with ductile gold: And while two pointed javelins arm his hands, Majestic moves along, and leads his Lycian bands. So press'd with hunger, from the mountain's brow Descends a lion on the flocks below; So stalks the lordly savage o'er the plain, In sullen majesty, and stern disdain: In vain loud mastiffs bay him from afar, And shepherds gall him with an iron war; Regardless, furious, he pursues his way; He foams, he roars, he rends the panting prey. Resolved alike, divine Sarpedon glows With generous rage that drives him on the foes. He views the towers, and meditates their fall, To sure destruction dooms the aspiring wall; Then casting on his friend an ardent look, Fired with the thirst of glory, thus he spoke: "Why boast we, Glaucus! our extended reign,(226) Where Xanthus' streams enrich the Lycian plain, Our numerous herds that range the fruitful field, And hills where vines their purple harvest yield, Our foaming bowls with purer nectar crown'd, Our feasts enhanced with music's sprightly sound? Why on those shores are we with joy survey'd, Admired as heroes, and as gods obey'd, Unless great acts superior merit prove, And vindicate the bounteous powers above? 'Tis ours, the dignity they give to grace; The first in valour, as the first in place; That w