the long strife even tired the lookers on, Thus to Ulysses spoke great Telamon: "Or let me lift thee, chief, or lift thou me: Prove we our force, and Jove the rest decree." He said; and, straining, heaved him off the ground With matchless strength; that time Ulysses found The strength to evade, and where the nerves combine His ankle struck: the giant fell supine; Ulysses, following, on his bosom lies; Shouts of applause run rattling through the skies. Ajax to lift Ulysses next essays; He barely stirr'd him, but he could not raise: His knee lock'd fast, the foe's attempt denied; And grappling close, they tumbled side by side. Defiled with honourable dust they roll, Still breathing strife, and unsubdued of soul: Again they rage, again to combat rise; When great Achilles thus divides the prize: "Your noble vigour, O my friends, restrain; Nor weary out your generous strength in vain. Ye both have won: let others who excel, Now prove that prowess you have proved so well." The hero's words the willing chiefs obey, From their tired bodies wipe the dust away, And, clothed anew, the following games survey. And now succeed the gifts ordain'd to grace The youths contending in the rapid race: A silver urn that full six measures held, By none in weight or workmanship excell'd: Sidonian artists taught the frame to shine, Elaborate, with artifice divine; Whence Tyrian sailors did the prize transport, And gave to Thoas at the Lemnian port: From him descended, good Eunaeus heir'd The glorious gift; and, for Lycaon spared, To brave Patroclus gave the rich reward: Now, the same hero's funeral rites to grace, It stands the prize of swiftness in the race. A well-fed ox was for the second placed; And half a talent must content the last. Achilles rising then bespoke the train: "Who hope the palm of swiftness to obtain, Stand forth, and bear these prizes from the plain." The hero said, and starting