The steeds ye yoked on Simois’ banks
Whirled many a chariot through the broken ranks;
No hero gathered in that stubborn fray
One laurel to adorn his head:
Phrygia’s illustrious rulers swept away,
Took their last voyage to a distant shore,
And mingled with the vulgar dead,
While the polluted altars ceased to gleam
Upwafting to the skies no more
Their frankincense in odorous steam.