prospect lay. But raging still, amidst his navy sat The stern Achilles, stedfast in his hate; Nor mix'd in combat, nor in council join'd; But wasting cares lay heavy on his mind: In his black thoughts revenge and slaughter roll, And scenes of blood rise dreadful in his soul. Twelve days were past, and now the dawning light The gods had summon'd to the Olympian height: Jove, first ascending from the watery bowers, Leads the long order of ethereal powers. When, like the morning-mist in early day, Rose from the flood the daughter of the sea: And to the seats divine her flight address'd. There, far apart, and high above the rest, The thunderer sat; where old Olympus shrouds His hundred heads in heaven, and props the clouds. Suppliant the goddess stood: one hand she placed Beneath his beard, and one his knees embraced. "If e'er, O father of the gods! (she said) My words could please thee, or my actions aid, Some marks of honour on my son bestow, And pay in glory what in life you owe. Fame is at least by heavenly promise due To life so short, and now dishonour'd too. Avenge this wrong, O ever just and wise! Let Greece be humbled, and the Trojans rise; Till the proud king and all the Achaian race Shall heap with honours him they now disgrace." [Illustration: THETIS ENTREATING JUPITER TO HONOUR ACHILLES.] THETIS ENTREATING JUPITER TO HONOUR ACHILLES. Thus Thetis spoke; but Jove in silence held The sacred counsels of his breast conceal'd. Not so repulsed, the goddess closer press'd, Still grasp'd his knees, and urged the dear request. "O sire of gods and men! thy suppliant hear; Refuse, or grant; for what has Jove to fear? Or oh! declare, of all the powers above, Is wretched Thetis least the care of Jove?" She said; and, sighing, thus the god replies, Who rolls the thunder o'er the vaulted skies: "What hast thou ask'd? ah, why should Jove engage In foreign contests an