It is for men to make wage war and make peace; for that task is theirs.

See who I am, whose great age, exhausted and decayed and past the fertile time for truth, deludes me with imaginary dread when I prophesy of warring kings! Look now at this. I come from the Dread Sisters' station; and in my hand I bear war and death.

Every man makes a god of his own desire

I sing of arms and of a man: his fate had made him fugitive: he was the first to journey from the coasts of Troy as far as Italy and the Lavinian shores Across the lands and waters he was battered beneath the violence of the high ones for the savage Juno's unforgetting anger.

Sing in me, muse, of arms and a man, who first from the shores of Troy.