To grace Pilumnus, when he went to war.
The drifts of Thracian snows were scarce so white,
Nor northern winds in fleetness matched their flight.
}
{ Officious grooms stand ready by his side;
{ And some with combs their flowing manes divide,
{ And others stroke their chests, and gently sooth their pride.
He sheathed his limbs in arms; a tempered mass
Of golden metal those, and mountain-brass.
Then to his head his glittering helm he tied,