with Alpheus fleeting by,

    But if fierce squadrons and the ranks of war

  Delight thee rather, or on wheels to glide

  At Pisa, with Alpheus fleeting by,

  And in the grove of Jupiter urge on

  The flying chariot, be your steed's first task

  To face the warrior's armed rage, and brook

  The trumpet, and long roar of rumbling wheels,

  And clink of chiming bridles in the stall;

  Then more and more to love his master's voice

  Caressing, or loud hand that claps his neck.

  Ay, thus far let him learn to dare, when first

  Weaned from his mother, and his mouth at times

  Yield to the supple halter, even while yet

  Weak, tottering-limbed, and ignorant of life.

  But, three years ended, when the fourth arrives,

  Now let him tarry not to run the ring

  With rhythmic hoof-beat echoing, and now learn

  Alternately to curve each bending leg,