When now the Thunderer on the sea-beat coast Had fix’d great Hector and his conquering host, He left them to the fates, in bloody fray To toil and struggle through the well-fought day. Then turn’d to Thracia from the field of fight Those eyes that shed insufferable light, To where the Mysians prove their martial force, And hardy Thracians tame the savage horse; And where the far-famed Hippomolgian strays, Renown’d for justice and for length of days;[229] Thrice happy race! that, innocent of blood, From milk, innoxious, seek their simple food: Jove sees delighted; and avoids the scene Of guilty Troy, of arms, and dying men: No aid, he deems, to either host is given, While his high law suspends the powers of Heaven.