Or thou less lovely hadst appear'd to her!
50O Menelaus! timely cease to strive,
With how much blood wilt thou thy loss retrieve?
From me, ye Gods, avert your heavy doom,
And bring my dear, laden with laurels, home:
But my heart fails me, when I think of war,
The sad reflection costs me many a tear:
I tremble when I hear the very name
Of every place where thou shalt fight for fame;
Besides, th' adventurous ravisher well knew