No human hand, or hostile god, was found, To boast the triumph of so base a wound. When Turnus saw the Trojan quit the plain, His chiefs dismayed, his troops a fainting train, The unhoped event his heightened soul inspires: At once his arms and coursers he requires; Then, with a leap, his lofty chariot gains, And with a ready hand assumes the reins. He drives impetuous, and, where'er he goes, He leaves behind a lane of slaughtered foes. These his lance reaches; over those he rolls His rapid car, and crushes out their souls. In vain the vanquished fly: the victor sends The dead men's weapons at their living friends. Thus, on the banks of Hebrus' freezing flood, The god of battles, in his angry mood, Clashing his sword against his brazen shield, Lets loose the reins, and scours along the field: Before the wind his fiery coursers fly; Groans the sad earth, resounds the rattling sky. Wrath, Terror, Treason, Tumult, and Despair, } (Dire faces, and deformed,) surround the car-- } Friends of the god, and followers of the war. } With fury not unlike, nor less disdain, Exulting Turnus flies along the plain: His smoking horses, at their utmost speed, He lashes on; and urges o'er the dead. Their fetlocks run with blood; and, when they bound, The gore and gathering dust are dashed around. Thamyris and Pholus, masters of the war, He killed at hand, but Sthenelus afar: From far the sons of Imbrasus he slew, Glaucus and Lades, of the Lycian crew-- Both taught to fight on foot, in battle joined, Or mount the courser that outstrips the wind. Meantime Eumedes, vaunting in the field, New fired the Trojans, and their foes repelled. This son of Dolon bore his grandsire's name, But emulated more his father's fame-- His guileful father, sent a nightly spy, The Grecian camp and order to descry-- Hard enterprise! and well he might require Achilles' car and horses, for his hire: But, met upon the scout, the Ætolian prince In death bestowed a juster recompense. Fierce Turnus viewed the Trojan from afar, And launched his javelin from his lofty car, Then lightly leaping down, pursued the blow, And, pressing with his foot his prostrate foe, Wrenched from his feeble hold the shining sword, And plunged it in the bosom of its lord. "Possess," said he, "the fruit of all thy pains, And measure, at thy length, our Latian plains. Thus are my foes rewarded by my hand; Thus may they build their town, and thus enjoy the land!" Then Dares, Butes, Sybaris, he slew, Whom o'er his neck the floundering courser threw. As when loud Boreas, with his blustering train, Stoops from above, incumbent on the main; Where'er he flies, he drives the rack before, And rolls the billows on the Ægæan shore: