who mighty nations guides, Directs in council, and in war presides, To whom its safety a whole people owes, To waste long nights in indolent repose.(79) Monarch, awake! 'tis Jove's command I bear; Thou, and thy glory, claim his heavenly care. In just array draw forth the embattled train, Lead all thy Grecians to the dusty plain; E'en now, O king! 'tis given thee to destroy The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy. For now no more the gods with fate contend, At Juno's suit the heavenly factions end. Destruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall, And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall. Awake, but waking this advice approve, And trust the vision that descends from Jove." The phantom said; then vanish'd from his sight, Resolves to air, and mixes with the night. A thousand schemes the monarch's mind employ; Elate in thought he sacks untaken Troy: Vain as he was, and to the future blind, Nor saw what Jove and secret fate design'd, What mighty toils to either host remain, What scenes of grief, and numbers of the slain! Eager he rises, and in fancy hears The voice celestial murmuring in his ears. First on his limbs a slender vest he drew, Around him next the regal mantle threw, The embroider'd sandals on his feet were tied; The starry falchion glitter'd at his side; And last, his arm the massy sceptre loads, Unstain'd, immortal, and the gift of gods. Now rosy Morn ascends the court of Jove, Lifts up her light, and opens day above. The king despatch'd his heralds with commands To range the camp and summon all the bands: The gathering hosts the monarch's word obey; While to the fleet Atrides bends his way. In his black ship the Pylian prince he found; There calls a senate of the peers around: The assembly placed, the king of men express'd The counsels labouring in his artful breast. "Friends and confederates! with attentive ear Receive my words, and credit what you hear. Late as I slumber'