Odes 3.20 (Gladstone): Non Vides Quanto

Foolhardy Pyrrhus, to distress
Cubs of Gaetulian lioness!
Soon, dastard spoiler, shalt thou yield
The battlefield.

If, winding through the rival band
To seek Nearchus, she be scanned,
How sharp the match! will you, or she,
The conqueror be?

Thy nimble arrows from the sheath
Draw'st thou? she sharpens grinding teeth
Beneath the umpire's foot the prize
Dishonoured lies;

And then he cools in breezy air
His shoulders, spread with perfumed hair:
Like Nireus, or the stripling torn
From Ida's bourn.