A Hero bred, and born to kill;
Who scrupled not to shed his own[27],
When he lack’d other blood to spill.
And often would he turn his arms
On those within his bosom bred,
And quell by fire the mighty swarms[28]
That with his life-blood he had fed.
His person, cover’d o’er with glory,
In truth was little clean or nice;
And ’tis a question in his story,