Classic Poem

Big with great purposes and proud, they sat,
Not disarray'd, but in fair form dispos'd
Of even ranks, and watch'd their num'rous fires.
As when around the clear bright moon, the stars
Shine in full splendour, and the winds are hush'd,
The groves, the mountain-tops, the headland-heights
Stand all apparent, not a vapour streaks
The boundless blue, but ether open'd wide
All glitters, and the shepherd's heart is cheer'd;
So num'rous seem'd those fires, between the stream
Of Xanthus blazing and the fleet of Greece,
In prospect all of Troy; a thousand fires,
Each watch'd by fifty warriors seated near,
The steeds beside the chariots stood, their corn
Chewing, and waiting till the golden-thron'd
Aurora should restore the light of day.