Gentle as yet,A true child-lover, and, to men of age,A thing whereat pride warms;And oft he had it in his armsLike any new-born babe, bright-faced, to handWagging its tail, at belly’s strict command. But in due time upgrown,The custom of progenitors was shown:For-thanks for sustenance repayingWith ravage of sheep slaughtered —It made unbidden feast;With blood the house was watered,To household came a woe there was no staying:Great mischief many-slaying! From God it was-some priestOf Até, in the house, by nurture thus increased.At first, then, to the city of Ilion wentA soul, as I might say, of windless calm —Wealth’s quiet ornament,An eyes’-dart bearing balm,