Vary thy shape in thousand forms, and dare
What skill and courage can attempt in war;
}
{ Wish for the wings of winds, to mount the sky;
{ Or hid within the hollow earth to lie!"
{ The champion shook his head, and made this short reply:—
"No threats of thine my manly mind can move;
Tis hostile heaven I dread, and partial Jove."
He said no more, but, with a sigh, repressed
The mighty sorrow in his swelling breast.