Its whole large hall with bronze is brightly beaming,
Its roof bedecked with flashing helmets gleaming,
Grim tools of war. White crests of horses' hair
Nod at their tops, a treasured pride to wear
For warriors on their heads. Upon each wall
The pegs by flashing greaves are hidden all,
Against swift darts a brazen bulwark strong,
And by new linen corslets, and a throng
Of curvèd shields and of Chalcidian blades,
Tunics, and belts, and other warlike aids.
These can we not forget and e'er must heed,
Since once we undertook this martial deed.
