"The Anger of _Achilles_, Goddess, sing;
Which to the _Greeks_ did endless Sorrows bring;
And sent untimely, to the Realms of Night,
The Souls of many Chiefs, renown'd in Fight:
And gave their Bodies for the Dogs to tear,
And every hungry Fowl that wings the Air.
And thus accomplish'd was the Will of _Jove_,
Since first _Atrides_ and _Achilles_ strove.
What God the fatal Enmity begun?
_Latonâ_'s, and great _Jove_'s immortal Son.
He through the Camp a dire Contagion spread,
The Prince offended, and the People bled:
With publick Scorn, _Atrides_ had disgrac'd
The Reverend _Chryses_, _Phoebus'_ chosen Priest.
He to redeem his Daughter, sought the Shore,
Where lay the _Greeks_, and mighty Presents bore:
Deckt with the Ensigns of his God, he stands,
The Crown, the golden Sceptre in his Hands;
To all he su'd, but to the Princes most,
Great _Atreus_'s Sons, the Leaders of the Host:
Princes! and _Grecian_ Warriors! may the Gods
(The Pow'rs that dwell in Heav'ns sublime Abodes)
Give you to level _Priam_'s haughty Tow'rs,
And safely to regain your native Shores.
But my dear Daughter to her Sire restore,
These Gifts accept, and dread _Apollo_'s Pow'r;
The Son of _Jove_; he bears a mighty Bow,
And from afar his Arrows gall the Foe.