Yea all, like busy bees throughout the flowery mead,
Are all astir with eager toil. O blessed toil!
O happy ye, whose walls already rise! But I,—
When shall I see my city and my city’s walls?
He remains in deep dejection.
Achates, observing the pediment of the temple itself (456-458):
But here, O friend, behold, in carvèd imagery,
Our Trojan battles one by one, that mighty strife
Whose fame has filled the world. Here see Achilles fierce,
The sons of Atreus,—and, alas, our fallen king!