Page:Shakespeare Collection of Poems.djvu/126

Here one mans hand lean'd on anothers head,
His nose being shadowed by his neighbors eare,
Here one being throng'd bears back all boln and red,
Another smothered, seems to pelt and swear,
And in their rage such signs of rage they bear,
As but for losse of Nestors golden words,
It seem'd they would debate with angry swords.

For much imaginary work was there;
Conceit deceitful, so compact, so kind,
That for Achilles image stood his spear
Gript in an armed hand, himself behind
Was left unseen, save to the eye of mind;
A hand, a foot, a face, a leg, a head,
Stood for the whole to be imagined.

And from the wals of strong besieged Troy,
When their brave hope, bold Hector, march'd to field,
Stood many Trojan mothers, sharing joy
To see their youthful sons bright weapons wield,
And to their hope they such odd action yield,
That thro' their light joy seemed to appear
(Like bright things stain'd) a kind of heavy fear.

And from the strond of Dardan where they fought,
To Simois reedy banks the red bloud ran,
Whose waves to imitate the battel sought
With swelling ridges, and their ranks began
To break upon the galled shore, and then

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