god implore, And be what great Achilles was before. From heavenly Venus thou deriv'st thy strain, And he but from a sister of the main; An aged sea-god father of his line; But Jove himself the sacred source of thine. Then lift thy weapon for a noble blow, Nor fear the vaunting of a mortal foe." This said, and spirit breathed into his breast, Through the thick troops the embolden'd hero press'd: His venturous act the white-arm'd queen survey'd, And thus, ****embling all the powers, she said: "Behold an action, gods! that claims your care, Lo great Ćneas rushing to the war! Against Pelides he directs his course, Phoebus impels, and Phoebus gives him force. Restrain his bold career; at least, to attend Our favour'd hero, let some power descend. To guard his life, and add to his renown, We, the great armament of heaven, came down. Hereafter let him fall, as Fates design, That spun so short his life's illustrious line:(262) But lest some advers