A rank of wretched youths, with pinion'd hands, But a pale spectre, larger than the life. Fear not that I shall watch, with servile shame, I strove to speak, but horror tied my tongue; 'Thus having pass'd the night in fruitless pain, BOOK III. The Argument. Aneas 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 Heaven 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 towers 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, Against our coast appears a spacious land, Which once the fierce Lycurgus did command (Thracia the name-the people bold in war— Vast 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 Ænos, named from me, the city call. To Dionæan Venus vows are paid, And all the powers 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 silvan 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 fate— The rooted fibres rose; and, from the wound, Black bloody drops distill'd upon the ground. Mute and amazed, my hair with terror stood; Fear shrunk my sinews, and congeal'd my blood. Mann'd once again, another plant I try: That other gush'd with the same sanguine dye. Then fearing guilt for some offence unknown, With prayers and vows the Dryads I atone, With all the sisters of the woods, and most The god of arms, who rules the Thracian coastThat they, or he, these omens would avert, Release our fears, and better signs impart. Clear'd, as I thought, and fully fix'd at length Scarce dare I tell the sequel: from the womb 66 Why dost thou thus my buried body rend? O! spare the corpse of thy unhappy friend! Spare to pollute thy pious hands with blood: The tears distil not from the wounded wood; But every 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 imbrued, Again shoot upward, by my blood renew'd." 'My faltering tongue and shivering limbs declare Who, when he saw the power of Troy decline, What bands of faith can impious lucre hold? |