Or that the temple might his trophies hold,
Or else to shine herself in Trojan gold.
Blind in her haste, she chases him alone,
And seeks his life, regardless of her own.
This lucky moment the sly traitor chose;
Then, starting from his ambush, up he rose,
And threw, but first to heaven addressed his vows:—
"O patron of Soracte's high abodes!
Phœbus, the ruling power among the gods!
Whom first we serve: whole woods of unctuous pine