His roaring fills the flitting air around. Thus, when an ox receives a glancing wound, He breaks his bands, the fatal altar flies, And with loud bellowings breaks the yielding skies. Their tasks performed, the serpents quit their prey, And to the tower of Pallas make their way: Couched at her feet, they lie protected there, By her large buckler, and protended spear. Amazement seizes all; the general cry Proclaims Laocoön justly doomed to die, Whose hand the will of Pallas had withstood, And dared to violate the sacred wood. All vote to admit the steed, that vows be paid, And incense offered, to the offended maid. A spacious breach is made; the town lies bare; Some hoisting-levers, some the wheels, prepare, And fasten to the horses feet; the rest With cables haul along the unwieldy beast. Each on his fellow for assistance calls; At length the fatal fabric mounts the walls, Big with destruction. Boys with chaplets crowned, And choirs of virgins, sing and dance around. Thus raised aloft, and then descending down, It enters o'er our heads, and threats the town. O sacred city, built by hands divine! O valiant heroes of the Trojan line! Four times he struck; as oft the clashing sound Of arms was heard, and inward groans rebound. Yet, mad with zeal, and blinded with our fate, We haul along the horse in solemn state; Then place the dire portent within the tower. Cassandra cried, and cursed the unhappy hour; Foretold our fate; but, by the god's decree, All heard, and none believed the prophecy. With branches we the fanes adorn, and waste, In jollity, the day ordained to be the last. Meantime the rapid heavens rolled down the light, And on the shaded ocean rushed the night; Our men, secure, nor guards nor sentries held, But easy sleep their weary limbs compelled. The Grecians had embarked their naval powers From Tenedos, and sought our well-known shores, Safe under covert of the silent night, And guided by the imperial galley's light; When Sinon, favoured by the partial gods, Unlocked the horse, and oped his dark abodes; Restored to vital air our hidden foes, Who joyful from their long confinement rose. Thessander bold, and Sthenelus their guide, And dire Ulysses, down the cable slide: Then Thoas, Athamas, and Pyrrhus, haste; Nor was the Podalirian hero last, Nor injured Menelaüs, nor the famed Epeus, who the fatal engine framed. A nameless crowd succeed; their forces join To invade the town, oppressed with sleep and wine. Those few they find awake, first meet their fate; Then to their fellows they unbar the gate. 'Twas in the dead of night, when sleep repairs Our bodies worn with toils, our minds with cares, When Hector's ghost before my sight appears: A bloody shroud he seemed, and bathed in tears; Such as he was, when, by Pelides slain, Thessalian coursers dragged him o'er the plain.