“The centaurs saw, enraged, the unhoped success, And rushing on in crowds, together press; At him, and him alone, their darts they threw: Repulsed they from his fated body flew. Amazed they stood, till Monichus began: ‘Oh shame, a nation conquer’d by a man! A woman-man! yet more a man is he Than all our race; and what he was, are we. Now what avail our nerves? the united force Of two the strongest creatures, man and horse: Nor goddess-born, nor of Ixion’s seed We seem, (a lover built for Juno’s bed,) Master’d by this half-man. Whole mountains throw With woods at once, and bury him below. This only way remains: nor need we doubt To choke the soul within, though not to force it out; Heap weights instead of wounds.’ He chanced to see Where southern storms had rooted up a tree; This, raised from earth, against the foe he threw, The example shown, his fellow-brutes pursue. With forest loads the warrior they invade Othrys and Pelion soon were void of shad And spreading groves were naked mountains made. Press’d with the burden, Caeneus pants for breath,