"The cunning Pylian orator, whose tongue pour’d forth a flood Of more-than-honey-sweet discourse."

"He said; and his black eyebrows bent; above his deathless head Th’ ambrosian curls flow’d; great heav’n shook."

"The lady of the light, the rosy-finger’d Morn, Rose from the hills."

"Heav’n’s great both-foot-halting God."

"A most disorder’d store Of words he foolishly pour’d out, of which his mind held more Than it could manage; any thing…"

"Thy tents are full of brass; and dames, the choice of all, are thine, With whom we must present thee first, when any …"

"Ye talk Like children all, that know not war."

"O father, all the sons Of Greece thou conquer’st in the strife of consultations."

"And as a fire upon A huge wood, on the heights of hills, that far off hurls his light; So the divine brass shin’d on …"

"Dog’s face, with heart but of a hart."