Which Aphrodite gliding from the sky
(So sings Mæonia’s bard) doth interpose;
And even while glares Atrides’ conquering eye,
And to his men the adulterer’s helm he throws,
The mist o’erspreads his form and shields from deathful blows.
XXIV.
But o’er the heights that gird the fearful pass
Our troops are gathered soon, and France doth quake,
For now the terrible defile in mass