Classic Poem

RECITATIVE .

A CHILLES roams the damp and sounding shore,
Nor hears th' approaching tempest's sullen roar;
Indignant mourns, by rage and anguish toss'd,
His honour stain'd, his fair Briseis is lost!

AIR. — Bass .

Mix'd with the rising wind his groan; —
Mark it, proud Troy! the welcome sound
Respites thine altars and thy throne,
Tho' fierce Tydides thunder round.

AIR. — A MOROSO .

ACHILLES .

" My Maid, my black-eyed Maid, " deprived of thee,
Life has no joy, and love no charm for me!

AIR. — B RAVOURA .

Tyrant, 'tis well! — in baffled combat long
Thy vanquish'd myriads shall avenge this wrong!

PRECEDING AIR RESUMED .

But ah! nor love, nor glory, now I boast,
Brightly they shone, now darken'd each, and lost.

CHORUS .

Hero, to thee shall great revenge remain,
And Grecian armies strew the Trojan plain!