The maids in soft simars of linen dress'd;

The youths all graceful in the glossy vest:

Of those the locks with flowery wreath inroll'd;

Of these the sides adorn'd with swords of gold,

That glittering gay, from silver belts depend.

Now all at once they rise, at once descend,

With well-taught feet: now shape in oblique ways,

Confusedly regular, the moving maze:

Now forth at once, too swift for sight, they spring,

And undistinguish'd blend the flying ring:

So whirls a wheel, in giddy circle toss'd,

And, rapid as it runs, the single spokes are lost.

The gazing multitudes admire around:

Two active tumblers in the centre bound;

Now high, now low, their pliant limbs they bend:

And general songs the sprightly revel end.

Thus the broad shield complete the artist crown'd

With his last hand, and pour'd the ocean round:

In living silver seem'd the waves to roll,

And beat the buckler's verge, and bound the whole.

This done, whate'er a warrior's use requires

He forged; the cuirass that outshone the fires,

The greaves of ductile tin, the helm impress'd

With various sculpture, and the golden crest.

691

The Iliad of Homer