How piteously with drooping wings he stands,
And knocks his bare breast with self-angry hands.10
The locks spread on his neck receive his tears,
And shaking sobs his mouth for speeches bears.
So[410] at Æneas' burial, men report,
Fair-faced Iülus, he went forth thy court.
And Venus grieves, Tibullus' life being spent,
As when the wild boar Adon's groin had rent.
The gods' care we are called, and men of piety,
And some there be that think we have a deity.