For from Pelorus' point, the north arose,
And drove us back where swift Pantagias flows.
His rocky mouth we pass, and make our way
By Thapsus, and Megara's winding bay;
This passage Achæmenides had shown,
Tracing the course which he before had run.
Right o'er against Plemmyrium's watery strand
There lies an isle, once call'd th' Ortygian land:
Alpheus, as old fame reports, has found
From Greece a secret passage under ground:
By love to beauteous Arethusa led,
And mingling here, they roll in the same sacred
As Helenus enjoin'd, we next adore
Diana's name, protectress of the shore.
With prosperous gales we pass the quiet sounds
Of still Elorus, and his fruitful bounds.
Then doubling Cape Pachynus, we survey
The rocky shore extended to the sea.
The town of Camarine from far we see ;
And fenny lake undrain'd, by fate's decree.
In sight of the Geloan fields we pass,

[bed.

And the large walls, where mighty Gela was:
Then Agragas with lofty summits crown'd:
Long for the race of warlike steeds renown'd;
We pass Selinus, and the palmy land,
And widely shun the Lilybean strand,
Unsafe, for secret rocks, and moving sand.
At length on shore the weary fleet arriv'd:
Which Drepanum's unhappy port receiv'd.
Here, after endless labours, often tost
By raging storms, and driven on every coast,
My dear, dear father, spent with age, I lost:
Ease of my cares and solace of my pain,
Sav'd through a thousand toils, but sav'd in vain.
The prophet, who my future woes reveal'd,
Yet this, the greatest and the worst, conceal'd,
And dire Celano, whose foreboding skill
Denounc'd all else, was silent of this ill:
This my last labour was. Some friendly god
From thence convey'd us to your blest abode."
Thus, to the listening queen, the royal guest
His wandering course, and all his toils express'd,
And here concluding, he retir'd to rest.

THE FOURTH BOOK OF THE NEIS.

THE ARGUMENT.

BUT anxious cares already seiz'd the queen: She fed within her veins a flame unseen:

The hero's valour, acts, and birth, inspire
Her soul with love, and fan the secret fire.
His words, his looks imprinted in her heart,
Improve the passion, and increase the smart.
Now when the purple morn had chas'd away
The dewy shadows, and restor❜d the day,
Her sister first with early care she sought,
And thus, in mournful accents, eas'd her thought:
"My dearest Anna, what new dreams affright
My labouring soul, what visions of the night
Disturb my quiet, and distract my breast
With strange ideas of our Trojan guest?
His worth, his actions, and majestic air,
A man descended from the gods declare.
Fear ever argues a degenerate kind,
His birth is well asserted by his mind.
Then what he suffer'd, when by fate betray'd,
What brave attempts for falling Troy he made!
Such were his looks, so gracefully he spoke,
That, were I not resolv'd against the yoke
Of hapless marriage, never to be curs'd
With second love, so fatal was my first,
To this one errour I might yield again:
For since Sichæus was untimely slain,
This only man is able to subvert
The fix'd foundations of my stubborn heart.
And, to confess my frailty, to my shame,
Somewhat I find within, if not the same,
Too like the sparkles of my former flame.
But first, let yawning Earth a passage rend,
And let me through the dark abyss descend:
First let avenging Jove, with flames from high,
Drive down this body to the nether sky,
Condemn'd with ghosts in endless night to lie,
Before I break the plighted faith I gave:
No; he who had my vows, shall ever have:
For whom I lov'd on Earth, I worship in the
grave."

She said: the tears ran gushing from her eyes, And stopp'd her speech. Her sister thus replies: "O dearer than the vital air I breathe,

Will you to grief your blooming years bequeath? Condemn'd to waste in woes your lonely life, Without the joys of mother or of wife?

Think you these tears, this pompous train of woe,
Are known or valued by the ghost below?

I grant, that while your sorrows yet were green,
It well became a woman and a queen
The vows of Tyrian princes to neglect,
To scorn Iärbas, and his love reject;
With all the Libyan lords of mighty name;
But will you fight against a pleasing flame?
This little spot of land, which Heaven bestows,
On every side is hemm'd with warlike foes:
Getulian cities here are spread around;
And fierce Numidians there your frontiers bound;
Here lies a barren waste of thirsty land,
And there the Syrtes raise the moving sand:
Barcæan troops besiege the narrow shore,
And from the sea Pygmalion threatens more.
Propitious Heaven, and gracious Juno led
This wandering navy to your needful aid;
How will your empire spread, your city rise
From such an union, and with such allies!
Implore the favour of the powers above,
And leave the conduct of the rest to love.
Continue still your hospitable way,

And still invent occasions of their stay;
Till storms and winter winds shall cease to threat,
And planks and oars repair their shatter'd fleet."

These words, which from a friend and sister came,
With ease resolv'd the scruples of her fame,
And added fury to the kindled flame.
Inspir'd with hope, the project they pursue;
On every altar sacrifice renew:

A chosen ewe of two-years old they pay
To Ceres, Bacchus, and the god of day:
Preferring Juno's power: for Juno ties
The nuptial knot, and makes the marriage-joys.
The beauteous queen before her altar stands,
And holds the golden goblet in her hands.
A milk-white heifer she with flowers adorns,
And pours the ruddy wine betwixt her horns;
And while the priests with prayer the gods invoke,
She feeds their altars with Sabæan smoke.
With hourly care the sacrifice renews,
And anxiously the panting entrails views.
What priestly rites, alas! what pious art,
What vows avail to cure a bleeding heart!
A gentle fire she feeds within her veins,
Where the soft god secure in silence reigns.
Sick with desire, and seeking him she loves,
From street to street the raving Dido roves.
So when the watchful shepherd from the blind,
Wounds with a random shaft the careless hind,
Distracted with her pain she flies the woods,
Bounds o'er the lawn, and seeks the silent floods;
With fruitless care: for still the fatal dart
Sticks in her side, and rankles in her heart.
And now she leads the Trojan chief along
The lofty walls, amidst the busy throng;
Displays her Tyrian wealth and rising town,
Which love, without his labour, makes his own.
This pomp she shows to tempt her wandering

guest;

Her faltering tongue forbids to speak the rest.
When day declines, and feasts renew the night,
Still on his face she feeds her famish'd sight:
She longs again to hear the prince relate
His own adventures, and the Trojan fate:
He tells it o'er and o'er: but still in vain;
For still she begs to hear it once again.
The hearer on the speaker's mouth depends;
And thus the tragic story never ends.

Thus, when they part, when Phoebe's paler light

Withdraws, and falling stars to sleep invite,
She last remains, when every guest is gone,
Sits on the bed he press'd, and sighs alone;
Absent, her absent hero sees and bears,
Or in her bosom young Ascanius bears:
And seeks the father's image in the child,
If love by likeness might be so beguil'd.
Meantime the rising towers are at a stand:
No labours exercise the youthful band:
Nor use of arts nor toils of arms they know;
The mole is left unfinish'd to the foe.

The mounds, the works, the walls, neglected lie, Short of their promis'd height that seem'd to threat the sky.

But when imperial Juno, from above,
Saw Dido fetter'd in the chains of love;
Hot with the venom which her veins inflam'd,
And by no sense of shame to be reclaim'd,
With soothing words to Venus she begun :
"High praises, endless honours you have won,
And nighty trophies with your worthy son:
Two gods a silly woman have undone.
Nor am I ignorant, you both suspect
This rising city, which my hands erect:

cease!

But shall celestial discord never cease
"Tis better ended in a lasting peace.
You stand possess'd of all your soul desir'd;
Poor Dido, with consuming love, is fir'd:
Your Trojan with my Tyrian let us join,
So Dido shall be yours, Æneas mine:
One common kingdom, one united line.
Eliza shall a Dardan lord obey,

And lofty Carthage for a dower convey."
Then Venus, who her hidden fraud descry'd,
(Which would the sceptre of the world misguide
To Libyan shores), thus artfully reply'd:
"Who but a fool would wars with Juno choose,
And such alliance and such gifts refuse?
If Fortune with our joint desires comply:
The doubt is all from Jove, and Destiny:
Lest he forbid with absolute command,
To mix the people in one common land.
Or will the Trojan and the Tyrian line,
fn lasting leagues and sure succession join?
But you, the partner of his bed and throne,
May move his mind; my wishes are your own."
"Mine," said imperial Juno, "be the care;
Time urges now to perfect this affair:
Attend my counsel, and the secret share.
When next the Sun his rising light displays,
And gilds the world below with purple rays;
The queen, Æneas, and the Tyrian court,
Shall to the shady woods, for sylvan game, re-

sort.

There, while the huntsmen pitch their toils around,

And cheerful horns, from side to side, resound,
A pitchy cloud shall cover all the plain
With hail and thunder, and tempestuous rain:
The fearful train shall take their speedy flight,
Dispers'd, and all involv'd in gloomy night:
One cave a grateful shelter shall afford
To the fair princess and the Trojan lord.
I will myself the bridal bed prepare,
If you, to bless the nuptials, will be there:
So shall their loves be crown'd with due delights,
And Hymen shall be present at the rites."
The queen of love consents, and closely smiles
At her vain project, and discover'd wiles.

The rosy morn was risen from the main,
And horns and hounds awake the princely train:
They issue early through the city-gate,
Where the more wakeful huntsmen ready wait,
With nets, and toils, and darts, beside the force
Of Spartan dogs, and swift Massylian horse.
The Tyrian peers and officers of state
For the slow queen in anti-chambers wait:
Her lofty courser in the court below
(Who his majestic rider seems to know),
Proud of his purple trappings, paws the ground,
And champs the golden bit, and spreads the foam
around.

The queen at length appears: on either hand
The brawny guards in martial order stand.
A flower'd cymarr, with golden fringe she wore;
And at her back a golden quiver bore:
Her flowing hair a golden caul restrains;
A golden clasp the Tyrian robe sustains.
Then young Ascanius, with a sprightly grace,
Leads on the Trojan youth to view the chase.
But far above the rest in beauty shines
The great Æneas, when the troop he joins:
Like fair Apollo, when he leaves the frost
Of wintery Xanthus, and the Lycian coast:

When to his native Delos he resorts, 'Ordains the dances, and renews the sports: Where painted Scythians, mix'd with Cretan bands, Before the joyful altars join their hands. Himself, on Cynthus walking, sees below The merry madness of the sacred show. Green wreaths of bays his length of hair enclose; A golden fillet binds his awful brows; His quiver sounds: not less the prince is seen In manly presence, or in lofty mien.

[seat Now had they reach'd the hills, and storm'd the Of savage beasts, in dens, their last retreat: The cry pursues the mountain-goats; they bound From rock to rock, and keep the craggy ground: Quite otherwise the stags, a trembling train, In herds unsingled, scour the dusty plain; And a long chase, in open view, maintain, The glad Ascanius, as his courser guides, Spurs through the vale, and these and those

outrides.

way;

[skies:

[side.

His horse's flanks and sides are forc'd to feel The clanking lash, and goring of the steel. Impatiently he views the feeble prey, Wishing some nobler beast to cross his And rather would the tusky boar attend, Or see the tawny lion downward bend. Meantime the gathering clouds obscure the From pole to pole the forky lightning flies; The rattling thunder rolls: and Juno pours A wintry deluge down, and sounding showers. The company dispers'd, to coverts ride, And seek the homely cots, or mountain's hollow The rapid rains, descending from the hills, To rolling torrents raise the creeping rills. The queen and prince, as love or fortune guides, One common cavern in her bosom hides. Then first the trembling Earth the signal gave; And flashing fires enlighten all the cave: Hell from below, and Juno from above, And howling nymphs were conscious to their love. From this ill-omen'd hour, in time arose Debate and death and all succeeding woes. The queen whom sense of honour could not move, No longer made a secret of her love; But call'd it marriage, by that specious name To veil the crime, and sanctify the shame." The loud report through Libyan cities goes; Fame, the great ill, from small beginnings grows, Swift from the first; and every moment brings New vigour to her flights, new pinions to her wings. Soon grows the pigmy to gigantic size; Her feet on Earth, her forehead in the skies: Enrag'd against the gods revengeful Earth Produc'd her, last of the Titanian birth. Swift in her walk, more swift her winged haste: A monstrous phantom, horrible and vast: As many plumes as raise her lofty flight, So many piercing eyes enlarge her sight: Millions of opening mouths to Fame belong : And every mouth is furnish'd with a tongue: And round with listening ears the flying plague

is hung.

She fills the peaceful universe with cries;
No slumbers ever close her wakeful eyes.
By day from lofty towers her head she shews:
And spreads, through trembling crowds, dis-

astrous news.

With court-informers haunts, and royal spies, This done relates, not done she feigus; and mingies truth with lies.

Talk is her business; and her chief delight
To tell of prodigies, and cause affright.
She fills the people's ears with Dido's name;
Who, lost to honour, and the sense of shame,
Admits into her throne and nuptial bed

A wandering guest, who from his country fled:
Whole days with him she passes in delights;
And wastes in luxury long winter-nights;
Forgetful of her fame, and royal trust;
Dissolv'd in ease, abandon'd to her lust.
The goddess widely spreads the loud report;
And flies at length to king Hiarba's court.
When first possess'd with this unwelcome news,
Whom did he not of men and gods accuse?
This prince, from ravish'd Garamantis born,
A hundred temples did with spoils adorn,
In Ammon's honour, his celestial sirę ;
A hundred altars fed with wakeful fire;
And through his vast dominions priests ordain'd,
Whose watchful care these holy rites maintain’d.
The gates and columns were with garlands crown'd,
And blood of victim-beasts enrich the ground.

He, when he heard a fugitive could move
The Tyrian princess, who disdain'd his love,
His breast with fury burn'd, his eyes with fire;
Mad with despair, impatient with desire.
Then on the sacred altars pouring wine,
He thus with prayers implor'd his sire divine:
"Great Jove, propitious to the Moorish race,
Who feast on painted beds, with offerings grace
Thy temples, and adore thy power divine
With blood of victims, and with sparkling wine;
Seest thou not this? or do we fear in vain
Thy boasted thunder, and thy thoughtless reign?
Do thy broad hands the forky lightnings lance,
Thine are the bolts, or the blind work of chance;
A wandering woman builds, within our state,
A little town, bought at an easy rate;
She pays me homage, and my grants allow
A narrow space of Libyan lands to plough.
Yet, scorning me, by passion blindly led,
Admits a banish'd Trojan to her bed :
And now this other Paris, with his train
Of conquer'd cowards, must in Afric reign!
(Whom, what they are, their looks and garb

confess;

Their locks with oil perfum'd, their Libyan dress :) He takes the spoil, enjoys the princely dame; And I, rejected I, adore an empty naine."

His vows, in haughty terins, he thus preferr'd, And held his altar's horus: the mighty thunderer heard,

Then cast his eyes on Carthage, where he found
The lustful pair, in lawless pleasure drown'd.
Lost in their loves, insensible of shame,
And both forgetful of their better fame.
He calls Cyllenius; and the god attends;
By whom his menacing command he sends:
"Go, mount the western winds, and cleave the sky;
Then, with a swift descent, to Carthage fly:
There find the Trojan chief, who wastes his days
In slothful riot and inglorious ease,

Nor minds the future city, giv'n by fate;
To him this message from my mouth relate:
Not so, fair Venus hop'd, when twice she won
Thy life with prayers; nor promis'd such a son.
Her's was a hero, destin'd to counand

A martial race; and rule the Latian land:
Who should his ancient line from Teucer draw;
And, on the conquer'd world, impose the law.

If glory cannot move a mind so mean,
Nor future praise from fading pleasure wean,
Yet why should he defraud his son of fame;
And grudge the Romans their immortal name !
What are his vain designs? what hopes he more,
From his long lingering on a hostile shore ?
Regardless to redeem his honour lost,
And for his race to gain th' Ausonian coast!
Bid him with speed the Tyrian court forsake ;
With this command the slumbering warrior wake."
Hermes obeys; with golden pinions binds
His flying feet, and mounts the western winds:
And whether o'er the seas or earth he flies,
With rapid force they bear him down the skies.
But first he grasps, within his awful hand,
The mark of sovereign power, his magic wand:
With this he draws the ghosts from hollow graves,
With this he drives them down the Stygian waves;
With this he seals in sleep the wakeful sight;
And eyes, though clos'd in death, restores to
light.

[space;

Thus arm'd, the god begins his airy race,
And drives the racking clouds along the liquid
Now sees the tops of Atlas, as he flies,
Whose brawny back supports the starry skies;
Atlas, whose head, with piny forests crown'd,
Is beaten by the winds, with foggy vapours
bound.

Snows hide his shoulders; from beneath his chin
The founts of rolling streams their race begin:
A beard of ice on his large breast depends:
Here, pois'd upon his wings, the god descends;
Then, rested thus, he from the towering height
Plung'd downward, with precipitated flight:
Lights on the seas, and skims along the flood:
As water-fowl, who seek their fishy food,
Less, and yet less, to distant prospect show,
By turns they dance aloft, and dive below:
Like these, the steerage of his wings he plies,
And near the surface of the water flies:
Till, having pass'd the seas, and cross'd the sands,
He clos'd his wings, and stoop'd on Libyan lands:
Here shepherds once were hous'd in homely sheds,
Now towers within the clouds advance their beads.
Arriving there, he found the Trojan prince
New ramparts raising for the town's defence:
A purple scarf, with gold embroider'd o'er,
(Queen Dido's gift), about his waste he wore;
A sword with glittering gems diversify'd,
For ornament, not use, hung idly by his side.
Then thus, with winged words, the god began
(Resuming his own shape): "Degenerate man,
Thou woman's property, what mak'st thou here,
These foreign walls and Tyrian towers to rear?
Forgetful of thy own? All-powerful Jove,
Who sways the world below, and Heaven above,
Has sent me down, with this severe command:
What means thy lingering in the Libyan land?
If glory cannot move a mind so mean,
Nor future praise, from flitting pleasure wean,
Regard the fortunes of thy rising heir;
The promis'd crown let young Ascanius wear;
To whom th' Ausonian sceptre and the state
Of Rome's imperial name is ow'd by fate."
So spoke the god; and speaking took his flight,
Involv'd in clouds; and vanish'd out of sight.

The pious prince was seiz'd with sudden fear;
Mute was his tongue, and upright stood his hair;
Revolving in his mind the stern command,
He longs to fly, and loaths the charming land.

|

What should he say, or how should he begin,
What course, alas! remains, to steer between
Th' offended lover, and the powerful queen!
This way, and that, he turns his anxious mind,
And all expedients tries and none can find:
Fixt on the deed, but doubtful of the means;
After long thought to this advice he leans:
Three chiefs he calls, commands them to repair
The fleet, and ship their men with silent care:
Some plausible pretence he bids them find,
To colour what in secret he design'd.
Himself, meantime, the softest hours would choose,
Before the love-sick lady heard the news;
And move her tender mind, by slow degrees,
To suffer what the sovereign power decrees:
Jove will inspire him, when, and what to say.
They hear with pleasure, and with haste obey.
But soon the queen perceives the thin dis
guise:
(What arts can blind a jealous woman's eyes?)
She was the first to find the secret fraud,
Before the fatal news was blaz'd abroad.
Love the first motions of the lover bears,
Quick to presage, and ev'n in safety fears.
Nor impious fame was wanting, to report
The ships repair'd; the Trojans thick resort,
And purpose to forsake the Tyrian court.
Frantic with fear, impatient of the wound,
And impotent of mind, she roves the city round
Less wild the Bacchanalian dames appear,
When, from afar, their nightly god they hear,
And howl about the hills, and shake the wreathy

spear.

At length she finds the dear perfidious man;
Prevents his form'd excuse, and thus began:
"Base and ungrateful, could you hope to fly,
And undiscover'd 'scape a lover's eye?
Nor could my kindness your compassion move,
Nor plighted vows, nor dearer bands of love?
Or is the death of a despairing queen
Not worth preventing, though too well foreseen?
Ev'n when the wintery winds command your stay,
You dare the tempest, and defy the sea.
False as you are, suppose you were not bound
To lands unknown, and foreign coasts to sound;
Were Troy restor'd, and Priam's happy reign,
Now durst you tempt, for Troy, the raging main?
See whom you fly; am I the foe you shun?
Now, by those holy vows so late begun,
By this right hand, (since I have nothing more
To challenge, but the faith you gave before)
I beg you by these tears too truly shed,
By the new pleasures of our nuptial bed;
If ever Dido, when you most were kind,
Were pleasing in your eyes, or touch'd your mind;
By these my prayers, if prayers may yet have place;
Pity the fortunes of a falling race.

For you I have provok'd a tyrant's hate;
Incens'd the Libyan and the Tyrian state;
For you alone I suffer in my fame:
Bereft of honour, and expos'd to shame:
Whom have I now to trust? (ungrateful guest!
That only name remains of all the rest!)
What have I left, or whither can I fly;
Must I attend Pygmalion's cruelty?
Or till Hiarbas shall in triumph lead

A queen, that proudly scorn'd his proffer'd bed?
Had you deferr'd at least your basty flight,
And left behind some pledge of our delight,
Some babe to bless the mother's mournful sight;

Some young Eneas to supply your place :
Whose features might express his father's face;
I should not then complain, to live bereft
Of all my husband, or be wholly left!"

[eyes,

Here paus'd the queen; unmov'd he holds his By Jove's command; nor suffer'd love to rise, Though heaving in his heart; and thus at length replies:

"Fair queen, you never can enough repeat
Your boundless favours, or I own my debt;
Nor can my mind forget Eliza's name,
While vital breath inspires this mortal frame.
This only let me speak in my defence;
I never hop'd a secret flight from hence:
Much less pretended to the lawful-claim
Of sacred nuptials, or a husband's name.
For if indulgent Heaven would leave me free,
And not submit my life to fate's decree,
My choice would lead me to the Trojan shore,
Those relics to review, their dust adore;
And Priam's ruin'd palace to restore.
But now the Delphian oracle commands,
And fate invites me to the Latian lands.
That is the promis'd place to which I steer,
And all my vows are terminated there.
If you, a Tyrian, and a stranger born,
With walls and towers a Libyan town adorn ;
Why may not we, like you a foreign race,
Like you seek shelter in a foreign place?
As often as the night obscures the skies
With humid shades, or twinkling stars arise,
Anchises' angry ghost in dreams appears,
Chides my delay, and fills my soul with fears;
And young Ascanius justly may complain,
Of his defrauded fate, and destin'd reign.
Ev'n now the herald of the gods appear'd,
Waking I saw him, and his message heard.
From Jove he came commission'd, heavenly
bright

With radiant beams, and manifest to sight.
The sender and the sent, I both attest,
These walls he enter'd, and those words express'd:
Fair queen, oppose not what the gods command;
Fore'd by my fate, I leave your happy land."
Thus while he spoke, already she began,
With sparkling eyes, to view the guilty man:
From head to foot survey'd his person o'er,
Nor longer these outrageous threats forbore:
"False as thou art, and more than false, forsworn;
Not sprung from noble blood, nor goddess-born,
But hewn from harden'd entrails of a rock;
And rough Hyrcanian tigers gave thee suck.
Why should I fawn? what have I worse to fear?
Did he once look, or lend a listening ear;
Sigh'd when I sobb'd, or shed one kindly tear?
All symptoms of a base ungrateful mind,
So foul, that which is worse, 'tis hard to find.
Of man's injustice, why should I complain?
The gods, and Jove himself, behold in vain
Triumphant treason, yet no thunder flies:
Nor Juno views my wrongs with equal eyes;
Faithless is Earth, and faithless are the skies!
Justice is fled, and truth is now no more;
I sav'd the shipwreck'd exile on my shore:
With needful food his hungry Trojans fed:
I took the traitor to my throne and bed:
Fool that I was!-'tis little to repeat
The rest, I stor'd and rigg'd his ruïn'd fleet.
1 rave, I rave! A god's command he pleads!
And makes Heaven accessary to his deeds.

VOL XIX

Now Lycian lots, and now the Delian god,..
Now Hermes is employ'd from Jove's abode,
To warn him hence; as if the peaceful state
Of heavenly powers were touch'd with human fate!
But go; thy flight no longer I detain;
Go seek thy promis'd kingdom through the main!
Yet, if the Heavens will hear my pious vow
The faithless waves, not half so false as thou,
Or secret sands, shall sepulchres afford
To thy proud vessels and their perjur'd lord.
Then shalt thou call on injur'd Dido's name:
Dido shall come, in a black sulphury flame;
When death has once dissolv'd her mortal frame:
Shall smile to see the traitor vainly weep;
Her angry ghost, arising from the deep,
Shall haunt thee waking, and disturb thy sleep.
At least my shade thy punishment shall know;
And fame shall spread the pleasing news below."

Abruptly here she stops: then turns away
Her loathing eyes, and shuns the sight of day.
Amaz'd he stood, revolving in his mind
What speech to frame, and what excuse to find.
Her fearful maids their fainting mistress led;
And softly laid her on her ivory bed.

But good Æneas, though he much desir'd
To give that pity, which her grief requir'd,
Though much he mourn'd and labour'd with his
Resolv'd at length, obeys the will of Jove: [love,
Reviews his forces; they with early care
Unmoor their vessels, and for sea prepare.
The fleet is soon afloat, in all its pride:
And well-caulk'd gallies in the harbour ride.
Then oaks for oars they fell'd; or, as they stood,
Of its green arms despoil'd the growing wood,
Studions of flight: the beach is cover'd o'er
With Trojan bands that blacken all the shore:
On every side are seen, descending down,
Thick swarms of soldiers loaden from the town.
Thus, in battalia, march embodied ants,
Fearful of winter, and of future wants,
T' invade the corn, and to their cells convey
The plunder'd forage of their yellow prey.
The sable troops, along the narrow tracks,
Scarce bear the weighty burden on their backs:
Some set their shoulders on the ponderous grain;
Some guard the spoil; some lash the lagging train;
All ply their several tasks, and equal toil sustain.
What pangs the tender breast of Dido tore,
When, from the tower, she saw the cover'd shore
And heard the shouts of sailors from afar,
Mix'd with the murmurs of the watery war!
All-powerful love, what changes canst thou cause
In human hearts, subjected to thy laws!
Once more her haughty soul the tyrant bends;
To prayers and mean submissions she descends.
No female art or aids she left untry'd,
Nor counsels unexplor'd, before she dy'd.
"Look, Anna, look; the Trojans crowd to sea:
They spread their canvass, and their anchors weigh:
The shouting crew, their ships with garlands bind,
Invoke the sea-gods, and invite the wind.
Could I have thought this threatening blow so near,
My tender soul had been forewarn'd to bear.
But do not you my last request deny,
With yon perfidious man your interest try;
And bring me news, if I must live or die.
You are his favourite, you alone can find
The dark recesses of his inmost mind:
In all his trusty secrets you have part,
And know the soft approaches to his heart.

Cc