LXXVII.

High barrows, without marble, or a name,

A vast, untilled, and mountain-skirted plain,[EC]And Ida in the distance, still the same,

And old Scamander (if 't is he) remain;

The situation seems still formed for fame—

A hundred thousand men might fight again,

With ease; but where I sought for Ilion's walls,

The quiet sheep feeds, and the tortoise[250] crawls;[ED]

Share on Twitter Share on Facebook