Practice Typing

Thy sire, O prince. oerturnd the Trojan state, Whose perjured monarch well deserved his fate; Those heavenly steeds the hero sought so far, False he detaind, the just reward of war. Nor so content, the generous chief defied, With base reproaches and unmanly pride. But you, unworthy the high race you boast, Shall raise my glory when thy own is lost. Now meet thy fate, and by Sarpedon slain, Add one more ghost to Plutos gloomy reign.