Volcen’s blade, thrust hard, passed through the ribs
And breached the snow-white chest. Euryalus
In death went reeling down,
And blood streamed on his handsome length, his neck
Collapsing let his head fall on his shoulder —
As a bright flower cut by a passing plow
Will droop and wither slowly, or poppy
Bow its head upon its tired stalk
When overborne by a passing rain.
– Book 9, lines 430 – 37
Rutulian prince and captains of Ausonia
Marvelled first at all this, till they turned
And saw the sterns already nearing shore,
The whole sea moving landward with the ships.
Aeneas’ helmet blazed; flames from the crest
Gushed upward; the gold boss of his great shield
Shout out vast firelight, even as when
Blood-red, ill-omened, through transparent night
A comet glows, or Sirius comes up,
That burning star that brings drought and disease
To ill mankind, and makes all heaven drear
With baleful shining.
Favors men who dare.
– Book X, lines 295 – 310
O grief, O glory, destined for your father!
This, your first day, gave you to the war
And took you from it, even though you leave
Windrows of Rutulian dead.
– Book X, line 510
Atlas who upholds the heavenly sphere
On a snowy shoulder.
– Book 8 line 165
As translated by Roger Fitzgerald.