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• As full-blown poppies, overcharg'd with rain, Decline the head, and drooping kiss the plain,-- So sinks the youth
  his beauteous head, deprest Beneath his helmet, drops upon his breast....
• Gods! How the son degenerates from the sire!
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book iv, Line 451...
• First in the fight and every graceful deed.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book iv, Line 295...
• The first in banquets, but the last in fight.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book iv, Line 401...
• If yet not lost to all the sense of shame.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book vi, Line 350...
• And o'er the past Oblivion stretch her wing.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Odyssey of Homer, Book xxiv, Line 557...
• Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro In all the raging impotence of woe.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xxii, Line 526...
• Patroclus, lov'd of all my martial train, Beyond mankind, beyond myself, is slain!
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book xviii, Line 103...
• The day shall come, that great avenging day Which Troy's proud glories in the dust shall lay, When Priam's powers and Priam's self shall fall, And one prodigious ruin swallow all.
  -- Alexander Pope (1688-1744) -- The Iliad of Homer, Book iv, Line 196...