Him who slew the invincible Hector, and Troy’s strong pillar did shiver,
And of whom was Kyknus slain
And the Dawn-queen’s Aethiop son. Many swift shafts lie in my quiver;
To the wise is their meaning plain;
For the common herd need they interpreters. Who is by nature discerning
Is the poet inspired; but the vehement babblers of other men’s learning
Croak vanity—crows be the twain!—