TILL sacred morn had brighten'd into noon, The vollied weapons on both sides their task Perform'd effectual, and the people fell. But when the sun had climb'd the middle skies, The Sire of all then took his golden scales; Doom against doom he weighed, th'eternal fates In counterpoise, of Trojans and of Greeks. He rais'd the beam; low sank the heavier lot Of the Achaians; the Achaian doom Subsided, and the Trojan struck the skies. Then roar'd his thunders from the summit hurl'd Of Ida, and his vivid lightnings flew Into Achaia's host. They at the sight Astonish'd stood; fear whiten'd ev'ry cheek. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...UPON THE LOSS OF HIS MISTRESSES by ROBERT HERRICK NINETY-NINE IN THE SHADE by ROSSITER JOHNSON THE OLD CHURCHYARD OF BONCHURCH by PHILIP BOURKE MARSTON NEVERNESS, OR THE ONE SHIP BEACHED ON ONE FAR DISTANT SHORE by MARGARET AVISON |