...tresses o'er his white neck rippled down, confined in circlet of soft twisted gold. Thee, too, the warrior nations gaze upon, high-nurtured Ismarus, inflicting wounds with shafts of venomed reed: Maeonia 's vale thy cradle was, where o'er the fruitful fields well-tilled and rich, Pactolus pours his gold. Mnestheus was there, who, for his late repulse of Turnus from the rampart, towered forth in g...