Classic Poem

Nor — could I bring within my visual scope
The great localities old stories boast —
Would I forget thee, Troas! whose first hope
Of travel pointed to thy lonely coast;
How would my quicken'd fancy reproduce
Th' incessant brazen flash of Homer's war,
And heroes moving quick their ground to choose,
With spear-tops burning like the autumn star,
Along that sullen sea-board! till, at length,
Mine ear should thrill, my startled pulses bound,
When from the trench those two grand voices rose —
And each involved in th' other, swept their foes
Before them, like a storm — the wrath and strength
Of God and man conspiring to the sound!