And so it went through all of Latium;
and when the Trojan hero has seen this,
he wavers on a giant tide of troubles;
his racing mind is split; it shifts here, there,
and rushes on to many different plans,
turning to everything; even as when
the quivering light of water in bronze basins
reflected from the sun or from the moon's
glittering image glides across all things
and now darts skyward, strikes the roof's high ceiling.
(Virgil, Aeneid 8.22-32; trans. Mandelbaum)
This is one of my favorite similes in the Aeneid.
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