Attention, rouze thyself! the master's hand,
(The master of our souls!) has chang'd the key,
And bids the thunder of the battle roar
Tumultuous. HOMER, HOMER is our own!
And Grecian heroes flame in British lines.
What pomp of words! what nameless energy
Kindles the verse; invigours every line;
Astonishes, and overwhelms the soul
In transports toss'd! when fierce ACHILLES raves,
And flashes, like a comet, o'er the field,
To wither armies with his martial frown.
I see the battle rage; I hear the wheels
Careering with their brazen orbs! The shout
Of nations roll (the labour of the winds)
Full on my ear, and shakes my inmost soul.
Description never cou'd so well deceive:
'Tis real! TROY is here, or I at TROY
Enjoy the war. My spirits, all on fire,
With unextinguish'd violence are borne
Above the world, and mingle with the gods.
Olympus rings with arms! the firmament,
Beneath the lightning of Minerva's shield,
Burns to the center: rock the tow'rs of heav'n,
All nature trembles, save the throne of JOVE.