Nine Sparrows and a Serpent

The altars heav’d; and from the crumbling ground          

A mighty dragon shot, of dire portent;    

From Jove himself the dreadful sign was sent.    

Straight to the tree his sanguine spires he roll’d,  

And curl’d around in many a winding fold.                 

The topmost branch a mother-bird possess’d;     

Eight callow infants fill’d the mossy nest;           

Herself the ninth: the serpent, as he hung,          

Stretch’d his black jaws, and crash’d the crying young;   

While hov’ring near, with miserable moan,                 

The drooping mother wail’d her children gone.   

The mother last, as round the nest she flew,       

Seiz’d by the beating wing, the monster slew:       

Nor long survived; to marble turn’d he stands     

A lasting prodigy on Aulis’ sands,                  

Such was the will of Jove; and hence we dare    

Trust in his omen, and support the war.  

For while around we gazed with wond’ring eyes,

And trembling sought the Powers with sacrifice, 

Full of his God, the rev’rend Calchas cried;                

“Ye Grecian warriors! lay your fears aside:        

This wondrous signal Jove himself displays,        

Of long, long labours, but eternal praise, 

As many birds as by the snake were slain,         

So many years the toils of Greece remain;                 

But wait the tenth, for Ilion’s fall decreed:”

   - The Iliad, Book II, verses 371-396 (Alexander Pope translation)

I must admit to being startlingly shocked upon confronting these lines for the first (*) time …

* Actually, second time.  I read the first third of The Iliad, in a more modern translation, twelve years ago, but lacked the wherewithal and the fortitude to persist to the end.  This time, though …