And fainter murmurs died upon the ear, The king of kings his awful figure raised: High in his hand the golden sceptre blazed; The golden sceptre, of celestial flame, By Vulcan form'd, from Jove to Hermes came. To Pelops he the immortal gift resign'd; The immortal gift great Pelops left behind, In Atreus' hand, which not with Atreus ends, To rich Thyestes next the prize descends; And now the mark of Agamemnon's reign, Subjects all Argos, and controls the main.(83) On this bright sceptre now the king reclined, And artful thus pronounced the speech design'd: "Ye sons of Mars, partake your leader's care, Heroes of Greece, and brothers of the war! Of partial Jove with justice I complain, And heavenly oracles believed in vain A safe return was promised to our toils, Renown'd, triumphant, and enrich'd with spoils. Now shameful flight alone can save the host, Our blood, our treasure, and our glory lost. So Jove decrees, resistless lord of all! At whose command whole empires rise or fall: He shakes the feeble props of human trust, And towns and armies humbles to the dust What shame to Greece a fruitful war to wage, Oh, lasting shame in every future age! Once great in arms, the common scorn we grow, Repulsed and baffled by a feeble foe. So small their number, that if wars were ceased, And Greece triumphant held a general feast, All rank'd by tens, whole decades when they dine Must want a Trojan slave to pour the wine.(84) But other forces have our hopes o'erthrown, And Troy prevails by armies not her own. Now nine long years of mighty Jove are run, Since first the labours of this war begun: Our cordage torn, decay'd our vessels lie, And scarce insure the wretched power to fly. Haste, then, for ever leave the Trojan wall! Our weeping wives, our tender children call: Love, duty, safety, summon us away, 'Tis nature's voice, and nature we obey, Our shatter'd barks may yet transport us o'er,