High over all their heads and glittering crests unfold.

XXIX. "Both hands are labouring the fierce knots to pull;
Black gore and slime his sacred wreaths distain.
Loud are his moans, as when a wounded bull
Shakes from his neck the faltering axe and, fain
To fly the cruel altars, roars in pain.
But lo! the serpents to Tritonia's seat
Glide from their victim, till the shrine they gain,
And, coiled beside the goddess, at her feet,
Behind her sheltering shield with gathered orbs retreat.

XXX. "Fresh wonder seized us, and we shook with fear.
All say, that justly had Laocoon died,
And paid fit penalty, whose guilty spear
Profaned the steed and pierced the sacred side.
'On with the image to its home,' they cried,
'And pray the Goddess to avert our woe';
We breach the walls, and ope the town inside.
All set to work, and to the feet below
Fix wheels, and hempen ropes around the neck they throw.

XXXI. "Mounting the walls, the monster moves along,
Teeming with arms. Boys, maidens joy around
To touch the ropes, and raise the festive song.
Onward it came, smooth-sliding on the ground,
And, beetling, o'er the midmost city frowned.
O native land! O Ilion, now betrayed!
Blest home of deities, in war renowned!
Four times beside the very gate 'twas stayed;