I dwell on Ida's verdant slopes mottled with snowy streaks,
Where homes the forest-haunting doe, where roams the wildling boar?
Now, now I rue my deed foredone, now, now it irks me sore!"
Whenas from out those roseate lips these accents rapid flew,
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Bore them to ears divine consigned a Nuncio true and new;
Then Cybebe her lions twain disjoining from their yoke
The left-hand enemy of the herds a-goading thus bespoke:—
"Up feral fell! up, hie with him, see rage his footsteps urge,
See that his fury smite him till he seek the forest verge,