19/44 Up ran, and raised his brother, as he lay, Alcanor. Shrill another javelin sung, And pierced his arm, and, reddening, held its way, And from his shoulders by the sinews hung The dying hand. Then straight, the dart outwrung, His brother Numitor the barb let fly Full at AEneas. In his face he flung, But failed to smite. The weapon, turned awry, Missed the intended mark, and grazed Achates' thigh. |