(The sex is ever to a soldier kind).

Now wasting years my former strength confound,

And added woes have bow’d me to the ground;

Yet by the stubble you may guess the grain,

And mark the ruins of no vulgar man.

Me, Pallas gave to lead the martial storm,

And the fair ranks of battle to deform;

Me, Mars inspired to turn the foe to flight,

And tempt the secret ambush of the night.

Let ghastly Death in all his forms appear,

I saw him not, it was not mine to fear.

Before the rest I raised my ready steel,

The first I met, he yielded, or he fell.

But works of peace my soul disdain’d to bear,

The rural labour, or domestic care.

To raise the mast, the missile dart to wing,

And send swift arrows from the bounding string,

Were arts the gods made grateful to my mind;

Those gods, who turn (to various ends design’d)

The various thoughts and talents of mankind.

Before the Grecians touch’d the Trojan plain,

Nine times commander or by land or main,

In foreign fields I spread my glory far,

Great in the praise, rich in the spoils of war;

Thence charged with riches, as increased in fame,

To Crete return’d, an honourable name.

But when great Jove that direful war decreed,

Which roused all Greece, and made the mighty bleed;

Our states myself and Idomen employ

To lead their fleets, and carry death to Troy.

Nine years we warr’d; the tenth saw Ilion fall;

Homeward we sail’d, but heaven dispersed us all.

One only month my wife enjoy’d my stay;

So will’d the god who gives and takes away.

Nine ships I mann’d, equipp’d with ready stores,

Intent to voyage to the Ægyptian shores;

In feast and sacrifice my chosen train

Six days consum’d; the seventh we plough’d the main.

Crete’s ample fields diminish to our eye;

Before the Boreal blast the vessels fly;

Safe through the level seas we sweep our way;

The steersman governs, and the ships obey.

The fifth fair morn we stem the Ægyptian tide,