and strings their nervous arms, No more they sigh, inglorious, to return, But breathe revenge, and for the combat burn. As on some mountain, through the lofty grove, The crackling flames ascend, and blaze above; The fires expanding, as the winds arise, Shoot their long beams, and kindle half the skies: So from the polish'd arms, and brazen shields, A gleamy splendour flash'd along the fields. Not less their number than the embodied cranes, Or milk-white swans in Asius' watery plains. That, o'er the windings of Cayster's springs,(97) Stretch their long necks, and clap their rustling wings, Now tower aloft, and course in airy rounds, Now light with noise; with noise the field resounds. Thus numerous and confused, extending wide, The legions crowd Scamander's flowery side;(98) With rushing troops the plains are cover'd o'er, And thundering footsteps shake the sounding shore. Along the river's level meads they stand, Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land, Or leaves the trees; or thick as insects play, The wandering nation of a summer's day: That, drawn by milky steams, at evening hours, In gather'd swarms surround the rural bowers; From pail to pail with busy murmur run The gilded legions, glittering in the sun. So throng'd, so close, the Grecian squadrons stood In radiant arms, and thirst for Trojan blood. Each leader now his scatter'd force conjoins In close array, and forms the deepening lines. Not with more ease the skilful shepherd-swain Collects his flocks from thousands on the plain. The king of kings, majestically tall, Towers o'er his armies, and outshines them all; Like some proud bull, that round the pastures leads His subject herds, the monarch of the meads, Great as the gods, the exalted chief was seen, His strength like Neptune, and like Mars his mien;(99) Jove o'er his eyes celestial glories spread, And dawning conquest played around his head. Say, virgins, seated