Now runneth to the grassy ground wherein the mare-kind feed;
Or, wont to water, speedeth him in well-known stream to wash,
And, wantoning, with uptost head about the world doth dash,
While wave his mane-locks o’er his neck, and o’er his shoulders play.”
Compare Chapman, Iliad vi. 503 (Οὐδέ Πάρις δήθυνεν ἐν ὑψηλοῖοι δόμοιοιν):
“And now was Paris come
From his high towers, who made no stay when once he had put on
His richest armor, but flew forth; the flints he trod upon
Sparkled with lustre of his arms; his long-ebb’d spirits now flow’d
The higher for their lower ebb. And as a fair steed, proud,