. . .Our helms defend the young, disguise the grey: We live by plunder, and delight in prey. Your vests embroidered with rich purple shine; In sloth you glory, and in dances join. Your vests have sweeping sleeves: with female pride, Your turbans underneath your chins are tied. Go, Phrygians, to your Dindymus agen! Go, less than women, in the shapes of men! [Pg 54] Go! mixed with eunuchs in the Mother's rites, (Where with unequal sound the flute invites,) Sing, dance, and howl, by turns, in Ida's shade: Resign the war to men, who know the martial trade." This foul reproach Ascanius could not hear With patience, or a vowed revenge forbear. At the full stretch of both his hands, he drew, And almost joined, the horns of the tough yew.[4] But, first, before the throne of Jove he stood, And thus with lifted hands invoked the god:— "My first attempt, great Jupiter, succeed! An annual offering in thy grove shall bleed, A snow-white . . . Read More