She stands attentive to his soothing Lyes,
And darts avenging Horrour from her Eyes.
Then full Resentment fires her boyling Blood:
She springs upon him 'midst the Captive Crowd:
(Her thirst of Vengeance want of Strength supplies;)
Fastens her forky Fingers in his Eyes;
Tears out the rooted Balls; her Rage pursues,
And in the hollow Orbs her Hand imbrews.
The Thracians fir'd at this inhuman Scene,
With Darts, and Stones assail the frantick Queen.
She snarls, and growls, nor in an human Tone;
Then bites impatient at the bounding Stone;
Extends her Jaws, as she her Voice would raise
To keen Invectives in her wonted Phrase;
But barks, and thence the yelping Brute betrays.
Still a sad Monument the Place remains,
And from this Monstrous Change its Name obtains:
Where she in long Remembrance of her Ills,
With Plaintive Howlings the wide Desart fills.
Greeks, Trojans, Friends, and Foes, and Gods above
Her num'rous Wrongs to just Compassion move.
Ev'n Juno's self forgets her ancient Hate,
And owns, she had deserv'd a milder Fate.
The Funeral of Memnon.
By Mr. Croxall.
Yet bright Aurora, partial as she was
To Troy, and those that lov'd the Trojan Cause,
Nor Troy, nor Hecuba can now bemoan,
But weeps a sad Misfortune, more her own,
Her Offspring Memnon, by Achilles slain,
She saw extended on the Phrygian Plain:
