Lo! there againe where Pallas sits, on fortes and castle-towres,
With Gorgon’s eyes, in lightning cloudes enclosed, grim she lowres,
The father-god himself to Greekes their mightes and courage steres,
Himselfe against the Troyan blood both gods and armour reres.
Betake thee to thy flight, my sonne, thy labours’ ende procure,
I will thee never faile, but thee to resting-place assure.
She said, and through the darke night shade herselfe she drew from sight;
Appeare the grisly faces then, Troyes en’mies vgly dight.”
Mr. Morris gives it thus:
“And look to it no more afeard to be