Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/445

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BOOK XII.
421

So where the battle sorest bleeds
Keen Turnus drives his smoking steeds
Insulting o'er the slain,
While gore and sand the horsehoof kneads,
And spirts the crimson rain.
Thamyris and Sthenelus lie dead,
Encountered hand to hand;
Pholus by spear from distance sped,
And Glaucus too and Lades bled,
Whom Imbrasus their father bred
In native Lycian land
And trained alike to fight or speed
Like lightning with the harnessed steed.
Now through the field Eumedes came,
Old Dolon's son, of Trojan fame,
His grandsire's counterpart in name,
In courage like his sire,
Who erst, the Danaan camp to spy,
Pelides' car, a guerdon high,
From Hector dared require:
But Tydeus' son with other meed
Requited that audacious deed,
And cured his proud desire.
Him from afar when Turnus views
With missile dart he first pursues,
Then quits the chariot with a bound,
Stands o'er him grovelling on the ground,
Plants on his neck his foot, and tears
From his weak grasp the lance he bears,
Deep in his throat the bright point dyes,
And o'er the corpse in triumph cries:
'Lie there, and measure out the plain,
The Hesperian soil you sought to gain:
Such meed they win who wish me killed;
'Tis thus their city-walls they build.'