Now while they wander'd as they would, they found
A wondrous thing: a marvel of man's skill,
That stood within a vale of hollow ground,
And bulk'd scarce smaller than the bitter-hill, -
The common barrow that the dead men fill
Who died in the long leaguer,--not of earth,
Was this new portent, but of tree, and still
The Trojans stood, and marvell'd 'mid their mirth.
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