Then kissed the child, and, lifting high in air,
Thus to the gods preferred a father’s prayer.
“‘O thou! whose glory fills th’ ethereal throne,
And all ye deathless powers, protect my son!
Grant him, like me, to purchase just renown,
To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown,
Against his country’s foes the war to wage,
And rise the Hector of the future age!
So when, triumphant from successful toils,
Of heroes slain he bears the reeking spoils,