all things stand revealed to-day.
Turnus himself, accoutred for the fray,
Wakes up his warriors with the morning light.
At once each captain marshals in array
His company, in brazen arms bedight,
And rumours whet their rage, and prick them to the fight.

LX. Nay more, aloft upon the javelin's end,
With shouts they bear--a miserable sight!--
The heads, the heads of Nisus and his friend.
On the walls' left--the river flanked their right--
The sturdy Trojans stand arrayed for fight,
And line the trenches and each lofty tower,
Sad, while the foemen, clamorous with delight,
March onward, with the heroes' heads before,
Well known--alas! too well--and dropping loathly gore.

LXI. Now Fame, winged herald, through the wildered town
Swift to Euryalus' mother speeds her way.
Life's heat forsakes her; from her hand drops down
The shuttle, and the task-work rolls away.
Forth with a shriek, like women in dismay,
Rending her hair, in frantic haste she flies,
And seeks the ramparts and the war's array,
Heedless of darts and dangers and surprise,
Heedless of armed men, and fills the heaven with cries.

LXII. "Thou--is it thou, Euryalus, my own?
Thou, the late solace of my age? Ah, why
So cruel? Could'st thou leave me here alone,
Nor let thy mother bid a last good-bye?
Now left a prey on Latin soil to lie
Of dogs and birds, nor I, thy mother, there
To wash thy wounds, and close thy lightless eye,
And shroud thee in the robe I wrought so fair,
Fain with the busy loom to soothe an old wife's care!

LXIII. "Where shall I follow thee? Thy corpse defiled,
Thy mangled limbs--where are they? Woe is me!
Is this then all of what was once my child?
Was it for this I roamed the land and sea?
Pierce _me_, Rutulians; hurl your darts at me,
Me first, if ye a mother's love can know.
Great Sire of Heaven, have pity! set me free.
Hurl with thy bolt to Tartarus below
This hateful head, that longs to quit a world of woe!"

LXIV. So wails the mother, weeping and undone,
And sorrow smites each warrior, as he hears,
Each groaning, as a father for his son.
Grief runs, like wildfire, through the Trojan peers,
And numbs their courage, and augments their fears.
Then, fain the spreading sorrow to allay,
Ilioneus and Iulus, bathed in tears
Call Actor and Idaeus; gently they
The aged dame lift u