(This for Myrinne's tomb the immortals know,
Though call'd Bateia in the world
below;)
Beneath their chiefs in martial
order here,
The
auxiliar troops and Trojan hosts appear.
The godlike Hector, high above the
rest,
Shakes his huge spear, and nods his
plumy crest:
In throngs around his native bands
repair,
And
groves of lances glitter in the air.
Divine Æneas brings the Dardan race,
Anchises' son, by Venus' stolen
embrace,
Born in the shades of Ida's secret
grove;
(A mortal mixing with the queen of
love;)
Archilochus and Acamas divide
The
warrior's toils, and combat by his side.
Who fair Zeleia's wealthy valleys
till,106
Fast by the foot of Ida's sacred
hill,
Or drink, Æsepus, of thy sable
flood,
Were led by Pandarus, of royal
blood;
To whom his art Apollo deign'd to
show,
--
somewhere here lies the recipe for , Æsepus
Its not absence but a menthal called
absutha. More chemistry.
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