As, when a torrent rolls with rapid force,
And dashes o'er the stones that stop the course,
The flood, constrained within a scanty space,
Roars horrible along the uneasy race;
White foam in gathering eddies floats around;
The rocky shores rebellow to the sound.
The murmur ceased: then from his lofty throne
The king invoked the gods, and thus begun:—
"I wish, ye Latians, what we now debate
Had been resolved before it was too late.