Pine, if you believe Virgil's Aenead.
By destiny compelled, and in despair,The Greeks grew weary of the tedious war,And by Minerva's aid a fabric reared,Which like a steed of monstrous height appeared:The sides were planked with pine; they feigned it madeFor their return, and this the vow they paid.Thus they pretend, but in the hollow sideSelected numbers of their soldiers hide:With inward arms the dire machine they load,And iron bowels stuff the dark abode.
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