an this reward,
"For the long annual care with anxious mind
"He gave you. This reward at length bestow,
"To his deserts but due: his labor done.
"Th' obstructing destinies by me remov'd,
"High Troy by me is captur'd; since by me
"The means high Troy to overthrow are given.
"Now beg I by our hopes conjoin'd; the walls
"Of Troy already tottering; by the gods
"Gain'd from the foe so lately; by what more
"Through wisdom may be done, if aught remains;
"Or aught of boldness, which through peril sought,
"Wanting, you still may deem to fill Troy's fate.
"If mindful of my merits you would rest,
"The arms award to this, if not to me:"
And pointed to Minerva's fateful form.

Mov'd were the band of nobles. Plainly shewn
What eloquence could do:--persuasion gain'd
The valiant warrior's arms. Then he who stood
'Gainst steel, and fire, and the whole force of Jove,
So oft, his own vexation now o'ercame:
Grief conquer'd his unconquerable soul.
He seiz'd his sword,--"And surely this"--he cry'd--
"Still is my own! or claims Ulysses this?
"Against myself this steel must now be us'd:
"This stain'd so oft with Phrygian blood, be stain'd
"With his who owns it; lest another hand
"Than Ajax' own should Ajax overcome."--
No more; but where his breast unguarded lay,
Pervious at length to wounds, his deadly blade
He plung'd, nor could his hand the blade withdraw;
The gushing blood expell'd it. Straight there sprung
Through the green turf, form'd by the blood-soak'd earth,
A purple flower, like that which sprung before
From Hyaecinthus' wound. Amid the leaves
Of each the self-same letters are inscrib'd;
The boy's complainings, and the hero's name.

Victorious Ithacus his sails unfurls,
To seek the land Hypsipyle once rul'd,
And Thoaes fam'd. An isle of old disgrac'd
By slaughter of its males, to bring the darts,
The weapons of Tyrinthius. These obtain'd
To Greece, and with their owner brought, at length
The furious war was finish'd. Priam falls
With Troy; and Priam's more unhappy spouse,
To crown her losses, loses human shape;
With new-heard barkings shaking foreign climes.
Where the long Hellespont's contracted bounds
Are seen, Troy blaz'd: nor yet the fires were quench'd.
The scanty drops of blood Jove's altar soak'd,
Which flow'd from aged Priam. By her locks
Dragg'd on, Apollo's priestess vainly stretch'd
To lofty heaven