Misenus, trumpeter, charioteer!
He drowned, and how? that horseman tried and good,
Hard and intrepid spearman, who had stood
The brunt of battle, as of rough sea-wave,
Of Hector and Æneas comrade brave—
There, like worthless seaweed, see! Misenus dead!
In eyes stark staring might almost be read
An appeal as if to Heaven, and Fate,
Against false friends who left him desolate!
And, true, ’twas pity touching on remorse,