Sister and comrade of man-slaying Mars⁠— Who rises small at first, but grows, and lifts Her head to heaven and walks upon the earth. She, striding through the crowd and heightening The mutual rancor, flung into the midst Contention, source of bale to all alike.

And now, when met the armies in the field, The ox-hide shields encountered, and the spears, And might of warriors mailed in brass; then clashed The bossy bucklers, and the battle-din Was loud; then rose the mingled shouts and groans Of those who slew and those who fell; the earth Ran with their blood. As when the winter streams Rush down the mountain-sides, and fill, below, With their swift waters, poured from gushing springs, Some hollow vale, the shepherd on the heights Hears the far roar⁠—such was the mingled din That rose from the great armies when they met.