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In vain she strives with dying hands
To wrench away the blade:
Fixed in her ribs the weapon stands,
Closed by the wound it made.
Bloodless and faint, she gasps for breath;
Her heavy eyes sink down in death;
Her cheek's bright colors fade.

— John Conington The Aeneid of Virgil (1866)

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More quotes by John Conington

Then take, good sir, your pleasure while you may;
With life so short 'twere wrong to lose a day.

The Satires, Epistles, and Art of Poetry of Horace (1869)

Blest pair! if aught my verse avail,
No day shall make your memory fail
From off the heart of time.

The Aeneid of Virgil (1866)

O Fortune, cruellest of heavenly powers,
Why make such game of this poor life of ours?

The Satires, Epistles, and Art of Poetry of Horace (1869)

Blank verse really deserving the name I believe to be impossible except to one or two eminent writers in a generation.

E'en here the tear of pity springs,
And hearts are touched by human things.

The Aeneid of Virgil (1866)

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Quote text and notes from Wikiquote: John Conington (page history), available under CC BY-SA 4.0. Source quality and labels are our own summary of what Wikiquote records.