Pallas and I, since Priam's sireDenied the gods his pledged reward,Had doom'd them all to sword and fire,The people and their perjured lord.No more the adulterous guest can charmThe Spartan queen: the house forswornNo more repels by Hector's armMy warriors, baffled and outworn:Hush'd is the war our strife made long:I welcome now, my hatred o'er,A grandson in the child of wrong,Him whom the Trojan priestess bore.Receive him, Mars! the gates of flameMay open: let him taste forgivenThe nectar, and enrol his nameAmong the peaceful ranks of Heaven.Let the wide waters sever stillIlium and Rome, the exiled raceMay reign and prosper where they will:So but in Paris' burial-place