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ch'd The steely head, and pointless fell the wood. More chafes the beast, like lightening fierce he burns, Fire from his eyeballs flashes, from his chest Clouds of hot smoke through his wide nostrils roll. Forc'd from the close-drawn string as flies a stone, Hurl'd at embattl'd walls, or hostile towers With foes thick crowded: so the deadly beast Rush'd on the heroes with unerring shock. Eupalamus and Pelagon, who stood The right wing guarding, on the earth he threw: Their fellows snatch'd them from impending fate. Not so Onesimus, of Hippocooen The offspring, 'scap'd the death-inflicting blow; Torn through the ham, just as for flight he turn'd; His slacken'd nerves could bear his weight no more. Then Nestor too, long e'er the Trojan times, Perchance had perish'd, but beside him stood A tree, whose branches nimbly he attain'd; A mighty effort, aided by his spear: Safe in his seat, he view'd the foe he fled, Beneath him. Fiercely threatening death below, He whets his tushes on a stumpy oak, And bold in sharpen'd arms, ranches the thigh, With crooked fangs, of Othrys' mighty son. Now the twin-brothers, ere in heaven display'd Bright constellations, both fair dazzling shone, Mounted on steeds, whose lily'd hue surpass'd Th' unsully'd snow; both shook their brandish'd spears, The trembling motion sounded high in air; Deep both had pierc'd, but 'mid the darkening trees, Their bristly foe sought refuge, where nor steed, Nor dart could reach him. Telamon pursues; Ardent, and heedless of his steps, a root Checks his quick feet, and prone the hero falls. While Peleus aids his brother chief to rise, The beauteous Atalanta to the string Fits the swift dart, and from the bended bow Speeds it; the arrow, fixt beneath his ear, Razes the monster's skin, and drops of blood His bristly neck ensanguine. Joys the maid To see the blow;--but Meleager far In joy surpass'd her. He the first beheld The trickling blood; he to his comrades first The wound display'd, exclaiming,--"Yon fair nymph "The honors so deserv'dly won shall bear."-- The warriors blush with shame, and each exhorts His fellow; shouts their souls more valiant swell; In heaps confus'd their numerous javelins fly; Clashing in crowds, each javelin fails to wound. Lo! now Ancaeus furious, to his fate Blind rushing, rears his double axe, and cries,-- "Behold, O yo
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