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Forth from the slain he plucks each spear,
And hurls them on the fliers' rear,
While Juno nerves him for the strife,
And breathes within diviner life.
Then lays he Halys on the field
And Phegeus, cloven through his shield:
Alcander, Halius, Prytanis,
And young Noemon, all
Are slaughtered, ere their foe they wis,
And tumbled from the wall:
And Lynceus, who in vain essayed
The strife, and called his friends for aid:
His right knee propped against the mound,
He swings his weighty falchion round:
Head-piece and head, by one sure wound
Cut off, at distance fall.
Then huntsman Amycus succeeds:
None better knew to flying reeds
The envenomed point to lend:
And Clytius feels the conqueror's spear,
And Cretheus, to the Muses dear,
Cretheus, the Muses' friend:
The minstrel lay, the tuneful shell
Had touched him with their magic spell,
And still the warrior strung
To martial themes his glowing lyre,
And arms, and men, and steeds of fire
In lofty numbers sung.

At last, at news of Troy's defeat,
Mnestheus and brave Serestus meet:
Their friends they see in wild retreat,
Within their camp the foe:
And 'Whither fly ye?' Mnestheus cried:
'What walls, what town are yours beside?