Practice Typing

Who, een in words unfetterd, might at full Tell of the wounds and blood that now I saw, Though he repeated oft the tale. No tongue So vast a theme could equal, speech and thought Both impotent alike. If in one band Collected, stood the people all, who eer Pourd on Apulias happy soil their blood, Slain by the Trojans, and in that long war When of the rings the measurd booty made A pile so high, as Romes historian.