his native plain; Unfinish'd his proud palaces remain, And his sad consort beats her breast in vain. His troops in forty ships Podarces led, Iphiclus' son, and brother to the dead; Nor he unworthy to command the host; Yet still they mourn'd their ancient leader lost. The men who Glaphyra's fair soil partake, Where hills incircle Boebe's lowly lake, Where Phaere hears the neighbouring waters fall, Or proud Iolcus lifts her airy wall, In ten black ships embark'd for Ilion's shore, With bold Eumelus, whom Alceste bore: All Pelias' race Alceste far outshined, The grace and glory of the beauteous kind, The troops Methone or Thaumacia yields, Olizon's rocks, or Meliboea's fields, With Philoctetes sail'd whose matchless art From the tough bow directs the feather'd dart. Seven were his ships; each vessel fifty row, Skill'd in his science of the dart and bow. But he lay raging on the Lemnian ground, A poisonous hydra gave the burning wound; There groan'd the chief in agonizing pain, Whom Greece at length shall wish, nor wish in vain. His forces Medon led from Lemnos' shore, Oileus' son, whom beauteous Rhena bore. The OEchalian race, in those high towers contain'd Where once Eurytus in proud triumph reign'd, Or where her humbler turrets Tricca rears, Or where Ithome, rough with rocks, appears, In thirty sail the sparkling waves divide, Which Podalirius and Machaon guide. To these his skill their parent-god imparts, Divine professors of the healing arts. The bold Ormenian and Asterian bands In forty barks Eurypylus commands. Where Titan hides his hoary head in snow, And where Hyperia's silver fountains flow. Thy troops, Argissa, Polypoetes leads, And Eleon, shelter'd by Olympus' shades, Gyrtone's warriors; and where Orthe lies, And Oloosson's chalky cliffs arise. Sprung from Pirithous of immortal race, The fruit of fair Hippodame's embrace, (That day, when hurl'd from Pelion's cloudy