Virgil (70~19 B.C.)
And great gods eke aggrievèd with our town.
I saw Troye fall down in burning gledes,
Neptunus' town clean razèd from the soil,
Like as the elm forgrown in mountains high,
Round hewen with axe, that husbandmen
With thick assaults strive to tear up, doth threat,
And hackt beneath trembling doth bend his top,
Till gold with strokes, giving the latter crack,
Rent from height, with ruin it doth fall.