To his mind, sunlight was unbearable, and he felt sure that it was very bad, indeed, for the eyes. […] Change, golden tresses of her hair,    To gold that turns to gray; Change, silent lips, forever fair,    To lips that have their day! […] To wrap the head in his mantle was the work of a second. […] A hunter once in that grove reclined,    To shun the noon’s bright eye, And oft he wooed the wandering wind,    To cool his brow with its sigh. […] To avenge this, the princes of Greece waged war against Troy, 178, which, after ten years, they destroyed, 211.