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 at last,
Secure, and deeming all the danger past,
A frightful noise of trampling feet we
hear.

My father, looking thro' the shades, with fear,

Cried out: Haste, haste, my son, the foes are nigh;

Their swords and shining armor I descry.' Some hostile god, for some unknown offense,

Had sure bereft my mind of better sense; For, while thro' winding ways I took my flight,

1000

And sought the shelter of the gloomy night,

Alas! I lost Creüsa: 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

Then headlong to the burning walls I run, And seek the danger I was forc'd to shun. I tread my former tracks; thro' night explore

Each passage, ev'ry street I cross'd before. All things were full of horror and affright, And dreadful ev'n 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,

1030

Thro' air transported, to the roofs aspire. From thence to Priam's palace I resort, And search the citadel and desart 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, 1040 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, Thro' all the silent street, Creusa's name: Creüsa still I call; at length she hears,

And sudden thro' the shades of night ap

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 decree;

On land hard labors, and a length of sea.
Then, after many painful years are past, 1060
On Latium's happy shore you shall be cast,
Where gentle Tiber from his bed beholds
The flow'ry meadows, and the feeding folds.
There end your toils; and there your fates
provide

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;

1071

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. 1080 "Thus having pass'd the night in fruitless

THE THIRD BOOK OF THE

ENEIS

THE ARGUMENT

Eneas proceeds in his relation: he gives an account of the fleet with which he sail'd, 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

altar with their leafy

with horror I relate A prodigy so strange and full of fate. The rooted fibers rose, and from the wound Black bloody drops distill'd upon the ground.

Mute and amaz'd, my hair with terror stood;

40

Fear shrunk my sinews, and congeal'd my

blood.

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,

141

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 Teucrus 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.

150

She secret rites and ceremonies taught,
And to the yoke the salvage lions brought.
Let us the land which Heav'n appoints, ex-
plore;

Appease the winds, and seek the Gnossian

shore.

160

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 be 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 rumor had been spread That fierce Idomeneus from Crete was fled, Expell'd and exil'd; that the coast was free Erom foreign or domestic enemy.

"We leave the Delian ports, and put to

We pass the scatter'd isles of Cyclades, That, scarce distinguish'd, seem to stud the

seas.

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

'All hands aloft! for Crete! for Crete !' they cry,

And swiftly thro' the foamy billows fly.
Full on the promis'd land at length we bore,
With joy descending on the Cretan shore. 181
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 labor'd land;
And I myself new marriages promote,
Give laws, and dwellings I divide by lot;
When rising vapors choke the wholesome
air,

190

And blasts of noisome winds corrupt the

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 redeem'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

Who from the burning town by thee were brought,