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The good old man with suppliant hands implor'd

The gods' protection, and their star ador'd.
"Now, now," said he," my son, no more de-
lay!

I yield, I follow where heav'n shows the way.
Keep, (O my country gods!) our dwelling place,
And guard this relic of the Trojan race,
This tender child!-these omens are your own;
And you can yet restore the ruin'd town.
At least accomplish what your signs foreshow;
I stand resign'd, and am prepar'd to go."
He said. The crackling flames appear on high;
And driving sparkles dance along the sky.
With Vulcan's rage the rising winds conspire,
And near our palace rolls the flood of fire.
"Haste my dear father! ('t is no time to wait)
And load my shoulders with a willing freight.
Whate'er befalls, your life shall be my care:
One death, or one deliv'rance, we will share.
My hand shall lead our little son; and you,
My faithful consort, shall our steps pursue.
Next you, my servants, heed my strict com-
mands:

Without the walls a ruin'd temple stands,
To Ceres hallow'd once: a cypress nigh,
Shoots up her venerable head on high,
By long religion kept: there bend your feet;
And in divided parties let us meet.
Our country gods, the relics, and the bands,
Hold you, my father, in your guiltless hands:
In me 't is impious holy things to bear,
Red as I am with slaughter, new from war
Till in some living stream I cleanse the guilt
Of dire debate, and blood in battle spilt.'
Thus ord'ring all that prudence could provide,
I clothe my shoulders with a lion's hide,
And yellow spoils; then on my bending back
The welcome load of my dear father take;
While on my better hand Ascanius hung,
And with unequal paces tript along.
Creusa kept behind: by choice we stray
Through ev'ry dark and ev'ry devious way.
I, who, so bold and dauntless, just before,
The Grecian darts and shock of lances bore,
At ev'ry shadow now am seiz'd with fear,
Not, for myself, but for the charge I bear;
Till, near the ruin'd gate arriv'd last,
Secure, and deeming all the danger past,
A frightful noise of trampling feet we hear.
My father, looking through the shades with
fear,
[nigh!
Cried out, "Haste, haste my son! the foes are
Their swords and shining armour I descry."
Some hostile god, for some unknown offence,
Had sure bereft my mind of better sense [flight,
For, while through winding ways I took my
And sought the shelter of the gloomy night,

Alas! I lost Creusa; hard to tell
If by her fatal destiny she fell,
Or weary sate, or wander'd with affright;
But she was lost for ever to my sight.
I knew not, or reflected, till I meet
My friends at Ceres' now deserted seat.
We met: not one was wanting; only she
Deceiv'd her friends, her son, and wretched me.
What mad expressions did my tongue refuse?"
Whom did I not of gods or men accuse?
This was the fatal blow, that pain'd me more
Than all I felt from ruin'd Troy before.
Stung with my loss, and raving with despair,
Abandoning my now forgotten care,
Of counsel, comfort, and of hope bereft,
My sire, my son, my country gods, I left.
In shining armour once again I sheathe
My imbs, not feeling wounds, nor fearing death;
Then headlong to the burning walls I run,
And seek the danger I was forc'd to shun.
I tread my former tracks, through night explore
Each passage, ev'ry street I cross'd before,
All things were full of horror and affright,
And dreadful e'en the silence of the night.
Then to my father's house I make repair,
With some small glimpse of hope to find her
there.

Instead of her, the cruel Greeks I met :

The house was fill'd with foes, with flames beset.

Driv'n on the wings of winds, whole sheets of

fire,

Through air transported, to the roofs aspire.
From thence to Priam's palace I resort,
And search the citadel, and desert court.
Then, unobserv'd, I pass by Juno's church:
A guard of Grecians had possess'd the porch;
There Phoenix and Ulysses watch the prey:
And thither all the wealth of Troy convey-
The spoils which they from ransack'd houses
brought,

And golden bowls from burning altars caught,
The tables of the gods, the purple vests,
The people's treasure, and the pomp of priests.
A rank of wretched youths, with pinion'd
hands,

And captive matrons, in long order stands.
Then, with ungovern'd madness, I proclaim,
Through all the silent streets Creüsa's name :
Creüsa still I call: at length she hears,
And sudden, through the shades of night, ap-
pears-
Appears, no more Creüsa, nor my wife,
But a pale spectre, larger than the life.
Aghast, astonish'd, and struck dumb with fear,
I stood: like bristles rose my stiffen'd hair.
Then thus the ghost began to sooth my grief:
"Nor tears, nor cries, can give the dead relief:

Desist, my much-lov'd lord, t' indulge your pain:
You bear no more than what the gods ordain.
My fates permit me not from hence to fly;
Nor he, the great controller of the sky.
Long wand'ring ways for you the pow'rs de-

cree

On land hard labours, and a length of sea.
Then, after many painful years are past,
On Latium's happy shore you shall be cast,
Where gentle Tyber from his bed beholds
The flow'ry meadows, and the feeding folds.
There end your toils; and there your fates pro-
vide

A quiet kingdom and a royal bride :

There fortune shall the Trojan line restore ;
And you for lost Creusa weep no more.
Fear not that I shall watch with servile shame,
Th' imperious looks of some proud Grecian
dame,

Or, stooping to the victor's lust, disgrace
My goddess mother, or my royal race.
And now,
farewell? the parent of the gods
Restrains my fleeting soul in her abodes,
I trust our common issue to your care."
She said, and gliding pass'd unseen in air.
I strove to speak: but horror tied my tongue :
And thrice about her neck my arms I flung,
And, thrice deceiv'd, on vain embraces hung.
Light as an empty dream at break of day,
Or as a blast of wind, she rush'd away.

Thus having pass'd the night in fruitless pain,
I to my longing friends return again-
Amaz'd th' augmented number to behold,
Of men and matrons mix'd, of young and old—
A wretched exil'd crew together brought,
With arms appointed, and with treasure fraught,
Resolv'd, and willing, under my command,
To run all hazards both of sea and land.
The Morn began, from Ida, to display
Her rosy cheeks; and Phosphor led the day;
Before the gates the Grecians took their post,
And all pretence of late relief was lost.

I yield to fate, unwillingly retire,
And, loaded, up the hill convey my sire.

BOOK III.
ARGUMENT.

Eneas proceeds in his relation; he gives an account of the fleet with which he sailed, and the success of his first voyage to Thrace. From thence he directs his course to Delos, and asks the oracle what place the gods had appointed for his habitation. By a mistake of the oracle's answer, he settles in Crete. His household gods give him the true sense of the oracle, in a dream. He follows their advice, and makes the best of his way for Italy. He is cast on several shores, and meets with very surprising adventures, till at length he lands on

Sicily, where his father Anchises dies. This is the place which he was sailing from, when the tempest rose, and threw him upon the Carthaginian coast.

When heav'n had overturn'd the Trojan state,

And Priam's throne, by too severe a fate;
When ruin'd Troy became the Grecians' prey,
And Ilium's lofty tow'rs in ashes lay;
Warn'd by celestial omens, we retreat,
To seek in foreign lands a happier seat.
Near old Antandros, and at Ida's foot,
The timber of the sacred groves we cut,
And build our fleet-uncertain yet to find
What place the gods for our repose assign'd.
Friends daily flock; and scarce the kindly
spring

Began to clothe the ground, and birds to sing When old Anchises summon'd all to sea; The crew my father and the Fates obey. With sighs and tears I leave my native shore And empty fields, where Ilium stood before. My sire, my son, our less and greater gods, All sail at once, and cleave the briny floods.

Against our coast appears a spacious land, Which once the fierce Lycurgus did command, (Thracia the name-the people bold in warVast are their fields, and tillage is their care,) A hospitable realm, while Fate was kind, With Troy in friendship and religion join'd. I land, with luckless omens; then adore Their gods, and draw a line along the shore: I lay the deep foundations of a wall, And Enos, nam'd from me, the city call. To Dionæan Venus vows are paid, And all the pow'rs that rising labours aid; A bull on Jove's imperial altar laid. Not far, a rising hillock stood in view: Sharp myrtles, on the sides, and cornels grew. There, while I went to crop the sylvan scenes, And shade our altar with their leafy greens, I pull'd a plant—with horror I relate A prodigy so strange and full of FateThe rooted fibres rose; and, from the wound, Black bloody drops distill'd upon the ground. Mute and amaz'd, my hair with terror stood, Fear shrunk my sinews, and congeal'd my blood.

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I bent my knees against the ground: once more
The violated myrtle ran with gore.
Scarce dare I tell the sequel: from the womb
Of wounded earth, and caverns of the tomb,
A groan, as of a troubled ghost, renew'd
My fright, and then these dreadful words en-
su'd:

the

Why dost thou thus my bury'd body rend?
0
spare corpse of thy unhappy friend!
Spare to pollute thy pious hands with blood:
The tears distil not from the wounded wood:
But ev'ry drop this living tree contains,
Is kindred blood, and ran in Trojan veins.
O! fly from this unhospitable shore,
Warn'd by my fate, for I am Polydore!
Here loads of lances, in my blood imbru'd,
Again shoot upward, by my blood renew'd."
My faultering tongue and shivering limbs de-

clare

My horror; and in bristles rose my hair. When Troy with Grecian arms was closely pent,

Old Priam, fearful of the war's event,
This hapless Polydore to Thracia sent:
Loaded with gold, he sent his darling, far
From noise and tumults, and destructive war;
Committed to the faithless tyarnt's care;
Who, when he saw the pow'r of Troy decline,
Forsook the weaker, with the strong to join-
Broke ev'ry bond of nature and of truth,
And murder'd, for his wealth, the royal youth.
O sacred hunger of pernicious gold!
What bands of faith can impious lucre hold?
Now, when my soul had shaken off her fears,
I call my father, and the Trojan peers-
Relate the prodigies of heav'n-require
What he commands, and their advice desire.
All vote to leave that execrable shore,
Polluted with the blood of Polydore ;
But, ere we sail, his fun'ral rites prepare,
Then, to his ghost, a tomb and altars rear.
In mournful pomp the matrons walk the round,
With baleful cypress, and blue fillets bound,
With eyes dejected, and with hair unbound.
Then bowls of tepid milk and blood we pour,
And thrice invoke the soul of Polydore.
Now, when the raging storms no longer reign,
But southern gales invite us to the main,
We launch our vessels, with a prosp'rous
wind,

Anius, the priest and king, with laurel crown'd,

And leave the cities and the shores behind.

An island in the gaan main appears: Neptune and watery Doris claim it theirs. It floated once, till Phoebus fix'd the sides To rooted earth; and now it braves the tides. Here, borne by friendly winds, we come ashore, With needful ease our weary limbs restore, And the Sun's temple, and his town adore.

His hoary locks with purple fillets bound,
Who saw my sire the Delian shore ascend,
Came forth with eager haste to meet his friend;
Invites him to his palace; and, in sign

Of ancient love, their plighted hands they join.
Then to the temple of the god I went,
And thus before the shrine, my vows present:
"Give, O Thymbræus! give a resting place
To the sad relics of the Trojan race-
A seat secure, a region of their own,
A lasting empire, and a happier town.
Where shall we fix? where shall our labours
end ?

Whom shall we follow, and what fate attend?
Let not my pray'rs a doubtful answer find;
But in clear auguries unveil thy mind."
Scarce had I said: he shook the holy ground,
The laurels, and the lofty hills around;
And from the tripos rush'd a bellowing sound.
Prostrate we fell; confess'd the present god,
Who gave this answer from his dark abode :
"Undaunted youths! go, seek that nobler earth
From which our ancestors derive their birth.
The soil that sent you forth, her ancient race
In her old bosom shall again embrace.
Through the wide world th' Ænein house shall
reign,

And children's children shall the crown sustain."

Thus Phoebus did our future fates disclose:
A mighty tumult, mix'd with joy, arose.
All are concern'd to know what place the god
Assign'd, and where determin'd our abode.
My father, long revolving in his mind
The race and lineage of the Trojan kind
Thus answer'd their demands; "Ye princes,

hear

Your pleasing fortune; and dispel your fear.
The fruitful isle of Crete, well known to fame
Sacred of old, to Jove's imperial name,
In the mid ocean lies, with large command;
And on its plains a hundred cities stand.
Another Ida rises there; and we
From thence derive our Trojan ancestry.
From thence, as 't is divulg'd by certain fame,
To the Rhotean shores old Teucer came;
There fix'd, and there the seat of empire chose,
Ere Ilium and the Trojan tow'rs arose.
In humble vales they built their soft abodes;
Till Cybele, the mother of the gods,
With tinkling cymbals charm'd th' Idæan
woods.

She secret rights and ceremonies taught,
And to the yoke the savage lions brought.
Let us the land, which heav'n appoints, explore;
Appease the winds and seek the Gnossian shore.

If Jove assists the passage of our fleet,
The third propitious dawn discovers Crete."
Thus having said, the sacrifices laid
On smoking altars, to the gods he paid→→
A bull, to Neptune an oblation due,
Another bull to bright Apollo slew→→→
A milk-white ewe, the western winds to please,
And one coal-black, to calm the stormy seas.
Ere this, a flying rumour had been spread,
That fierce Idomeneus from the Crete was fled,
Expell'd and exil'd; that the coast was free
From foreign or domestic enemy.
We leave the Delian ports, and put to sea;
By Naxos, fam'd for vintage, make our way;
Then green Donysa pass; and sail in sight
Of Paros' isle with marble quarries white.
We pass
the scatter'd isles of Cyclades,

Thy fortune follow'd, and thy safety wrought.
Through seas and lands as we thy steps attend,
So shall our care thy glorious race befriend.
An ample realm for thee thy fates ordain,
A town, that o'er the conquer'd world shall reign.
Thou mighty walls for mighty nations build;
Nor let thy weary mind to labours yield:
But change thy seat, for not the Delian god,
Nor we, have giv'n thee Crete for your abode.
A land there is, Hesperia call'd of old,
(The soil is fruitful, and the natives bold-
Th' Enotrians held it once,) by later fame,
Now call'd Italia, from the leader's name.

That, scarce distinguish'd, seem to stud the Iasius there, and Dardanus, were born

seas.

The shouts of sailors double near the shores;
They stretch their canvass, and they ply their

oars.

"All hands aloft? for Crete! for Crete?"
they cry,

And swiftly through the foamy billows fly.
Full on the promis'd land at length we bore,
With joy descending on the Cretan shore.
With eager haste a rising town I frame,
Which from the Trojan Pergamus I name:
The name itself was grateful: I exhort
To found their houses and erect a fort.
Our ships are haul'd upon the yellow strand :
The youth begin to till the labour'd land;
And I myself new marriages promote,
Give laws; and dwellings I divide by lot;
When rising vapours choke the wholesome air,
And blasts of noisome winds corrupt the year;
The trees devouring caterpillars burn;
Parch'd was the grass, and blighted was the

corn:

Nor 'scape the beasts: for Sirius, from on high,
With pestilential heat infects the sky:
My men-some fall, the rest in fevers fry.
Again my father bids me seek the shore
Of sacred Delos, and the god implore,
To learn what end of woes we might expect,
And to what clime our weary course direct.

'T was night, when ev'ry creature, void of

cares,

The common gift of balmy slumber shares :
The statues of my gods, (for such they seem'd)
Those gods whom I from flaming Troy re-
deem'd,

Before me stood, majestically bright,
Full in the beams of Phoebe's ent'ring light.
Then thus they spoke, and eas'd my troubled
mind:

"What from the Delian god thou go'st to find,

He tells thee here, and sends us to relate;
Those pow'rs are we, companions of thy fate,
Who from the burning town by thee were
brought,

From thence we came, and thither must return.
Rise, and thy sire with these glad tidings greet;
Search Italy; for Jove denies thee Crete."

Astonish'd at their voices and their sight,
(Nor were they dreams, but visions of the night;
I saw, I knew their faces, and descried,
In perfect view, their hair with fillets tied,)
I started from my couch; a clammy sweat
On all my limbs, and shiv'ring body, sate.
To heav'n I lift my hands with pious haste,
And sacred incense in the flames I cast.
Thus to the gods their perfect honours done
More cheerful to my good old sire I run,
And tell the pleasing news. In little space
He found his error of the double race,
Not, as before he deem'd, deriv'd from Crete;
No more deluded by the doubtful seat;
Then said, "O son, turmoil'd in Trojan fate!
Such things as these Cassandra did relate.
This day revives within my mind, what she
Foretold of Troy renew'd in Italy,

And Latian lands: but who could then have
thought
(brought;
That Phrygian gods to Latium should be
Or who believ'd what mad Cassandra taught?
Now let us go where Phoebus leads the way."
He said; and we with glad consent obey;
Forsake the seat; and, leaving few behind,
We spread our sails before the willing wind,
Now from the sight of land our galleys move,
With only seas around and skies above;
When o'er our heads descends a burst of rain,
And night with sable clouds involves the main:
The ruffling winds the foamy billows raise :
The scatter'd fleet is forc'd to sev'ral ways:
The face of heav'n is ravish'd from our eyes;
And in redoubled peals the roaring thunder
flies.

Cast from our course, we wander in the dark;
No stars to guide, no point of land to mark.

E'en Palinurus no distinction found Betwixt the night and day; such darkness reign'd around.

Three starless nights the doubtful navy strays,
Without distinction, and three sunless days:
The fourth renews the light; and from our
shrouds

We view a rising land, like distant clouds:
The mountain-tops confirm the pleasing sight,
And curling smoke ascending from their height.
The canvass falls; their oars the sailors ply;
From the rude strokes the whirling waters fly.
At length I land upon the Strophades,
Safe from the danger of the stormy seas.
Those isles are compass'd by th' Ionian main,
The dire abode where the foul Harpies reign;
Forc'd by the winged warriors to repair
To their old homes, and leave their costly fare.
Monsters more fierce offended heav'n ne'er

sent

From hell's abyss for human punishmentWith virgin faces, but with wombs obscene, Foul paunches, and with odour still unclean; With claws for hands, and looks for ever lean.

We landed at the port, and soon beheld
Fat herds of oxen graze the flow'ry field:
And wanton goats without a keeper stray'd.
With weapons we the welcome prey invade,
Then call the gods for partners of our feast,
And Jove himself, the chief invited guest.
We spread the table on the greensward ground:
We feed with hunger; and the bowls go round;
When from the mountain-tops, with hideous cry,
And clatt'ring wings, the hungry Harpies
fly:

They snatch the meat, defiling all they find,
And, parting, leave a loathsome stench behind.
Close by a hollow rock, again we sit
New dress the dinner, and the beds refit,
Secure from sight, beneath a pleasing shade,
Where tufted trees a native arbour made,
Again the holy fires on altars burn;
And once again the rav'nous birds return,
Or from the dark recesses where they lie,
Or from another quarter of the sky-
With filthy claws their odious meal repeat,
And mix their loathsome ordures with their
meat.

I bid my friends for vengeance then prepare, And with the hellish nation wage the war. They, as commanded, for the fight provide, And in the grass their glitt'ring weapons hide: Then, when along the crooked shore we hear Their clatt'ring wings, and saw the foes ap

pear,

Misenus sounds the charge: we take th' alarm, And our strong arms with swords and bucklers

arm.

VOL. II.-8

In this new kind of combat, all employ
Their utmost force, the monsters to destroy-
In vain the fated skin is proof to wounds;
And from their plumes the shining sword re-
bounds.

:

At length rebuff'd, they leave their mangled prey,

And their stretch'd pinions to the skies display.
Yet one remain'd-the messenger of Fate,
High on a craggy cliff Celano sate,
And thus her dismal errand did relate:
"What? not contented with your oxen slain,
Dare you with heav'n an impious war maintain,
And drive the Harpies from their native reign?
Heed, therefore, what I say; and keep in mind
What Jove decrees, what Phœbus has design'd,
And I, the Furies' queen from both relate-
You seek th' Italian shore, foredoom'd by Fate:
Th' Italian shores are granted you to find,
And a safe passage to the fort assign'd.
But know, that, ere your promis'd walls you
build,

My curses shall severely be fulfill'd.
Fierce famine is your lot-for this misdeed,
Reduc'd to grind the plates on which you feed."
She said, and to the neighb'ring forest flew :
Our courage fails us, and our fears renew.
Hopeless to win by war, to pray'rs we fall,
And on the offended Harpies humbly call,
And (whether gods or birds obscene they were)
Our vows, for pardon and for peace, prefer.
But old Anchises, off'ring sacrifice,
And lifting up to heav'n his hands and eyes,
Ador'd the greater gods-" Avert," said he,
"These omens ! render vain this prophecy,
And from th' impending curse a pious people
free."

Thus having said, he bids us put to sea;
We loose from shore our halsers, and obey,
And soon with swelling sails pursue our wat❜ry

way. Amidst our course, Zacynthian woods appear; And next by rocky Neritos we steer: We fly from Ithaca's detested shore, And curse the land which dire Ulysses bore. At length Leucate's cloudy top appears, And the Sun's temple, which the sailor fears. Resolv'd to breathe awhile from labours past, Our crooked anchors from the prow we cast, And joyful to the little city haste. Here, safe beyond our hopes, our vows we pay To Jove, the guide and patron of our way. The customs of our country we pursue, And Trojan games and Action shores renew. Our youth their naked limbs besmear with oil, And exercise the wrestlers' noble toilPleas'd to have sail'd so long before the wind, And left so many Grecian towns behind.

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