“Friends and confederates! with attentive ear Receive my words, and credit what you hear. Late as I slumber’d in the shades of night, A dream divine appear’d before my sight; Whose visionary form like Nestor came, The same in habit, and in mien the same.[80] The heavenly phantom hover’d o’er my head, ‘And, dost thou sleep, O Atreus’ son? (he said) Ill fits a chief 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. Monarch, awake! ’tis Jove’s command I bear, Thou and thy glory claim his heavenly care. In just array draw forth the embattled train, And lead the 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.