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Rh Iulus, manlier than his years,

Oft whispering, for his father's ears

Full many a message sends:

But be it message, be it prayer,

Alike 'tis lost, dispersed in air.

The trenches past, through night's deep gloom

The hostile camp they near:

Yet many a foe shall meet his doom

Or ere that hour appear.

There see they bodies stretched supine,

O'ercome with slumber and with wine;

The cars, unhorsed, are drawn up high;

'Twixt wheels and harness warriors lie,

With arms and goblets on the grass

In undistinguishable mass.

'Now' Nisus cries 'for hearts and hands:

This, this the hour our force demands.

Here pass we: yours the rear to mind,

Lest hostile arm be raised behind;

Myself will go before and slay,

While carnage opes a broad highway.'

So whispers he with bated breath,

And straight begins the work of death

On Rhamnes, haughty lord:

On rugs he lay, in gorgeous heap,

From all his bosom breathing sleep,

A royal seer, by Turnus loved:

But all too weak his seer-craft proved

To stay the rushing sword.

Three servants next the weapon found

Stretched 'mid their armour on the ground:

Then Remus' charioteer he spies

Beneath the coursers as he lies,

And lops his downdropt head:

The ill-starred master next he leaves,

A headless trunk, that gasps and heaves: