Laocoon

"Thus while they waver and, perplex with doubt, / urge diverse counsels, and in parts divide, / lo, from the citadel, foremost of a rout, / breathless Laocoon runs, and from afar cries out: / 'Ah! wretched townsmen! do ye think the foe / gone, or that guileless are their gifts? O blind / with madness! Thus Ulysses do ye know?'"

Laocoon, Neptune's priest, by lot ordained, / a stately bull before the altar slew.

Pale at the sight we fly; unswerving, these / glide on and seek Laocoon. First, entwined / in stringent folds, his two young sons they seize, / with cruel fangs their tortured limbs to grind.

Fresh wonder seized us, and we shook with fear. / All say, that justly had Laocoon died, / and paid fit penalty, whose guilty spear / profaned the steed and pierced the sacred side.