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The fierce Rutulians vanquish'd by his sword,
Three years shall Latium own him sovereign lord.
Your dear Ascanius then, the royal boy,
(Now called Iülus, since the fall of Troy)
While thirty rolling years their orbs complete,
Shall wear the crown, and from Lavinium's seat
Transfer the kingdom; and, of mighty length
Raise tow'ring Alba, glorying in her strength.
There, shall the Trojan race enjoy the pow'r,
And fill the throne three hundred winters more.
Ilia, the royal priestess, next shall bear
Two lovely infants to the god of war.
Nurs'd by a tawny wolf, her eldest son,
Imperial Romulus, shall mount the throne;
From his own name, the people Romans call,
And from his father Mars, his rising wall.
No limits have I fix'd, of time, or place,
To the vast empire of the godlike race.
Ev'n haughty Juno shall the nation love,
Who now alarms earth, seas, and Heaven above;
And join her friendly counsels to my own,
With endless fame the sons of Rome to crown,
The world's majestic lords, the nation of the gown.
This word be fatean hour shall wing its way,
When Troy in dust shall proud Mycena lay.
In Greece, Assaracus, his sons shall reign,
And vanquish'd Argos wear the victor's chain.
Then Cæsar, call'd by great fülus' name,
(Whose empire ocean bounds, the stars his fame)
Sprung from the noble Trojan line, shall rise,
Charg'd with his eastern spoils, and mount the
skies.

Him, shail you see, advanc'd to these abodes;
Ador'd by Rome; a god among the gods.
From that blest hour all violence shall cease,
The age grow mild, and soften into peace.
With righteous Rhemus shall Quirinus reign,
Old faith, and Vesta, shall return again;
With many a solid hinge, and brazen bar,
Shall Janus close the horrid gates of war.
Within the fane dire Fury shall be bound,
With a huge heap of shatter'd arms around ;
Wrapt in an hundred chains, beneath the load
The fiend shall roar, and grind his teeth in blood."
The thund'rer said, and down th' aërial way
Sent with his high commands the son of May;
That Carthage may throw wide her friendly tow'rs,
And grant her guests the freedom of her shores;
Lest Dido, blind to fate, and Jove's decree,
Should shut her ports, and drive them to the sea.
Swift on the steerage of his wings he flies,
And shoots the vast expansion of the skies.
Arriv'd, th' almighty's orders he performs:
Charm'd by the god, no more the nation storms
With jealous rage; in chief the queen inclin'd
To peace, and mild benevolence of mind.

All night involv'd in cares Æneas lay,
But rose impatient at the dawn of day,
To view the coast, the country to explore,
And learn if men, or beasts, possess'd the shore,
(Por wide around the gloomy waste extends)
And bear the tidings to his anxious friends.
Beneath a shelving rock his fleet dispos'd,
With waying woods and awful shades enclos'd,
Two glitt'ring spears he shook with martial pride,
Aud forth be march'd; Acbates at his side.
As through the wilds the chief his course pursu'd,
He meets his goddess-another in the wood;
In show, an huntress she appear'd, array'd
In arms and habit like a Spartan maid;

Or swift Harpalyce of Thrace, whose speed
Out-flew the wings of winds, and tir'd the mpid

steed.

Bare was her knee; and with an easy pride
Her polish'd bow hung graceful at her side.
Close, in a knot, her flowing robes she drew;
Loose to the winds her wanton tresses flew.
"Ho! gentle youths," she cry'd, "have you beheld
One of my sisters wand'ring o'er the field,
Girt with a speckled lynx's vary'd hide,
A painted quiver rattling at her side?
Or have you seen her, with an eager pace,
Urge with full cries the foaming boar in chase ?❤
"None of your charming sisterhood," he said,
"Have we beheld, or heard, oh! beauteous maid.
Your name, oh! nymph, or oh! fair goddess, say?
A goddess, sure, or sister of the day!

You draw your birth from some immortal line,
Your looks are heavenly, and your voice divine,
Tell me, on what new climate are we thrown ?
Alike the natives and the lands unknown?
By the wild waves, and swelling surges tost,
We wander strangers on a foreign coast.
Then will we still invoke your sacred name,
And with fat victims shall your altars flame."
"No goddess' awful name!" she said, “1 bears
For know, the Tyrian maids, by custom, here,
The purple buskin and a quiver wear.
Your eyes behold Agenor's walls aspire;
The Punic realms; a colony from Tyre.
See! wide around, waste Libya's bounds appear,
Whose swarthy sons are terrible in war.
From her fierce brother's vengeance, o'er the main
From Tyre, fled Dido, and enjoys the reign:
The tale is intricate, perplext, and long;
Hear then, in short, the story of her wrong.
Sichæus was her lord, beyond the rest
Of the Phoenician race, with riches blest;
Much lov'd by Dido, whom her father led
Pure, and a virgin, to his nuptial bed.
Her brother, fierce Pygmalion, fill'd the throne
Of Tyre, in vice unrivall'd and alone.
Ev'n at the sacred altar, in a strife,
By stealth the tyrant shed his brother's life;
Blind with the charms of gold, his falchion drove,
Stern, and regardless of his sister's love.
Then, with fond hopes, deceiv'd her for a time,
And forg'd pretences to conceal the crime.
But her unbury'd lord, before her sight,
Rose in a frightful vision of the night:
Around her bed he stalks; grim! ghastly! pale¦
And, staring wide, nofolds the horrid tale
Of the dire altars, dash'd with blood around;
Then bares his breast, and points to every wound;
Warns her to fly the land without delay;
And to support her through the tedious way,
Shows where, in massy piles, his bury'd treasure
lay.

Rous'd, and alarm'd, the wife her flight intends,
Obeys the summons, and convenes her friends:
They meet, they join, and in her cause engage,
All, who detest, or dread the tyrant's rage.
Some ships, already rigg'd, they seiz'd, and stow'
Their sides with gold; then lanch'd into the flood.
They sail; the bold exploit a woman guides;
Pygmalion's wealth is wafted o'er the tides.
They came, where now you see new Carthage rise,
And yon proud citadel invade the skies.
The wand'ring exiles bought a space of ground,
Which one bull-hide enclos'd and compass'd round;

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Hence Byrsa nam'd: but now, ye strangers, say,
Who? whence you are? and whither lies your
way?"

Deep, from his soul, he draws a length of sighs,
And, with a mournful accent, thus replies:
"Should I, O goddess! from their source relate,
Or you attend, the annals of our fate,
The golden Sun would sink, and ev'ning close,
Before my tongue could tell you half our woes.
By Grecian foes expell'd from Troy we came,
From ancient Troy (if e'er you heard the name)
Through various seas; when lo! a tempest roars,
And raging drives us on the Libyan shores.
The good Eneas am I call'd; my fame,
And brave exploits, have reach'd the starry frame:
From Grecian flames I bear my rescu'd gods,
Safe in my vessels, o'er the stormy floods.
In search of ancient Italy I rove,

And draw my lineage from almighty Jove.
A goddess-mother and the fates my guides,
With twenty ships I plough'd the Phrygian tides,
Scarce sev'n of all my fleet are left behind,
Rent by the waves, and shatter'd by the wind.
Myself, from Europe and from Asia cast,
A helpless stranger rove the Libyan waste."
No more could Venus hear her son bewail
His various woes, but interrupts his tale.
"Whoe'er you are, arriv'd in these abodes,
No wretch I deem abandon'd by the gods;
Hence then, with haste, to yon proud palace bend
Your course, and on the gracious queen attend.
Your friends are safe, the winds are chang'd again,
Or all my skill in augury is vain!

See those twelve swans, a flock triumphant, fly,
Whom lately shooting from th' etherial sky,
Th' imperial bird of Jove dispers'd around,
Some hov'ring o'er, some settling on the ground.
As these returning clap their sounding wings,
Ride round the skies, and sport in airy rings;
So have your friends and ships possess'd the strand,
Or with full-bellying sails approach the land.
Haste to the palace then, without delay,
And, as this path directs, pursue your way."
She said, and turning round, her neck she show'd,
That with celestial charms divinely glow'd.
Her waving locks immortal odours shed,

And breath'd ambrosial scents around her head.
Her sweeping robe trail'd pompous as she trod,
And her majestic port confess'd the god.
Soon as he knows her through the coy disguise,
He thus pursues his mother as she flies:

"Must never, never more our hands be join'd? Are you, like Heaven, grown cruel and unkind? Why must those borrow'd shapes delude your son? And why, ah! why those accents not your own?" He said; then sought the town; but Venus shrowds

And wraps their persons in a veil of clouds; That none may interpose to cause delay, Nor, fondly curious, ask them of their way. Through air sublime the queen of love retreats To Paphos' stately tow'rs, and blissful seats; Where to her name an hundred altars rise, And gums, and flow'ry wreaths, perfume the skies. Now o'er the lofty hill they bend their way, Whence all the rising town in prospect lay, And tow'rs and temples; for the mountain's brow Hung beuding o'er, and shaded all below. Where late the cottage stood, with glad surprise The prince beholds the stately palace rise;

On the pav'd streets, and gates, looks wond'ring down,

And all the crowd and tumult of the town.
The Tyrians ply their work; with many a groan
These roll, or heave, some huge unwieldy stone;
Those bid the lofty citadel ascend;

Some in vast length th' embattled walls extend;
Others for future dwellings choose the ground,
Mark out the spot, and draw the furrow round.
Some useful laws propose, and some the choice
Of sacred senates, and elect by voice.
These sink a spacious mole beneath the sea,
Those a huge theatre's foundation lay;
Hew massy columns from the mountain's side,
Of future scenes an ornamental pride.
Thus to their toils, in early summer, run
The clust'ring bees, and labour in the sun;
Led forth, in colonies, their buzzing race,
Or work the liquid sweets, and thicken to a masą.
The busy nation flies from flow'r to flow'r,
And hoards, in curious cells, the golden store;
A chosen troop before the gate attends,
To take the burdens, and relieve their friends;
Warm at the fragrant work, in bands, they drive
The drone, a lazy robber, from the hive.
The prince surveys the lofty tow'rs, and cries,
"Blest, blest are you, whose walls already rise!"
Then, strange to tell, he mingled with the crowds,
And pass'd, unseen, involv'd in mantling clouds.
Amid the town, a stately grove display'd

A cooling shelter, and delightful shade.
Here, tost by winds and waves, the Tyrians found
A courser's head within the sacred ground;
An omen sent by Juno, to declare

A fruitful soil, and race renown'd in war.
A temple here Sidonian Dido rais'd
To Heav'n's dread empress, that with riches blaz'd;
Unnumber'd gifts adorn'd the costly shrine,
By her own presence hallow'd and divine.
Brass were the steps, the beams with brass were
strong,

The lofty doors, on brazen hinges, rung.
Here, a strange scene before his eyes appears,
To raise his courage, and dispel his fears;
Here first, he hopes his fortunes to redress:
And finds a glimmering prospect of success.
While for the queen he waited, and amaz'd,
O'er the proud shrine and pompous temple gaz'd;
While he the town admires, and wond'ring stands
At the rich labours of the artists' hands;
Amid the story'd walls, he saw appear,
In speaking paint, the tedious Trojan war;
The war, that fame had blaz'd the world around,
And every battle fought on Phrygian ground.
There Priam stood, and Agamemnon here,
And Peleus' wrathful son, to both severe.
Struck with the view, "Oh, friend!" the hero cries,
(Tears, as he spoke, came starting from his eyes)
"Lo! the wide world our miseries employ;
What realm abounds not with the woes of Troy?
See! where the venerable Priam stauds!
See virtue honour'd in the Libyan sands!
For Troy, the generous tears of Carthage flow;
And Tyrian breasts are touch'd with human wo
Now banish fear; for, since the Trojan name
Is known, we find our safety in our fame."

Thus while his soul the moving picture fed,
A show'r of tears the groaning hero shed.
For here, the fainting Greeks in thigh ne view'd ;
And there the Trojans to their walls pursu'd

By plum'd Achilles, with his dreadful spear,
Whirl'd on his kindling chariot through the war.
Not far from thence, proud Rhæsus' tents he knows
By their white veils, that match'd the winter snows,
Betray'd and stretch'd amidst his slaughter'd train,
And, while he slept, by fierce Tydides slain;
Who drove his coursers from the scene of blood,
Ere the fierce steeds had tasted Trojan food,
Or drank divine Scamander's fatal flood.

There Troilus flies disarin'd (unhappy boy!)
From stern Achilles, round the fields of Troy:
Unequal he! to such an arm in war!
Supine, and trailing from his empty car,
Still, though in death, he grasps the flowing reins,
His startled coursers whirl him o'er the plains:
The spear inverted streaks the dust around;
His snowy neck and tresses sweep the ground.
Meantime a pensive supplicating train
Of Trojan matrons, to Minerva's fane
In sad procession with a robe repair,
Beat their white breasts, and rend their golden hair.
Unmov'd with pray'rs, disdainfully she frown'd,
And fix'd her eyes, relentless, on the ground.
Achilles here, his vengeance to enjoy,
Thrice dragg'd brave Hector round the walls of
Then to the mournful sire, the victor sold [Troy:
The breathless body of his son for gold.
His groans now deepen'd, and new tears he shed,
To see the spoils and chariot of the dead,
And Priam both his trembling hands extend,
And, gash'd with wounds, his dear disfigur'd friend.
Mix'd with the Grecian peers, and hostile train,
Himself he view'd, conspicuous in the plain;
And swarthy Memnon, glorious to behold,
His eastern hosts, and arms that flame with gold.
All furious led Penthesilea there,
With moony shields, her Amazons to war;
Around her breast her golden belt she threw;
Then through the thick-embattled squadrons flew :
Amidst the thousands stood the dire alarms,
And the fierce maid engag'd the men in arms.
Thus, while the Trojan hero stood amaz'd,
And, fix'd in wonder, on the picture gaz'd,
With all her guards, fair Dido, from below,
Ascends the dome, majestically slow.
As on Eurota's banks, or Cynthus' heads,
A thousand beauteous nymphs Diana leads,
While round their quiver'd queen the quires ad-
vance,

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She tow'rs majestic, as she leads the dance ;*
She moves in pomp superior to the rest,
And secret transports touch Latona's breast.
So pass'd the graceful queen amidst her train,
To speed her labours and her future reign.
Then with her guards surrounded, in the gate,
Beneath the spacious dome, sublime she sat.
She shares their labours, or by lots she draws:
And to the crowd administers the laws.
When lo! Eneas brave Cloanthus spies,
Antheus, and great Sergestus, with surprise,
Approach the throne, attended by a throng
Of Trojan friends, that pour'd in tides along ;
Whom the wild whistling winds and tempests bore,
And wildly scatter'd on a distant shore.
Lost in his hopes and fears, amaz'd he stands,
And with Achates longs to join their hands:
But doubtful of th' event, he first attends,
Wrapt in the cloud, the fortune of his friends;
Anxious, and eager till he knew their state,
And where their vessels lay, and what their fate.

With cries, the royal favour to imploré,
They came, a train selected, from the shore:
Then, leave obtain'd, Ilioneus begun,
And, with their common suit, addrest the throne.
"Oh! queen, indulg'd by Jove, these lofty
tow'rs,

And this proud town, to raise on Libyan shores,
With high commands, a savage race to awe,
And to the barb'rous natives give the law,
We wretched Trojans, an abandon'd race,
Tost round the seas, implore your royal grace;
Oh! check your subjects, and their rage reclaim,
Ere their wild fury wrap our fleet in flame.
Oh! save a pious race; regard our cry;
And view our auguish with a melting eye.
We come not, mighty queen, an hostile band,
With sword and fire, and, ravaging the land,
To bear your spoils triumphant to the shore;
No-to such thoughts the vanquish'd durst not soar.
Once by Enotrians till'd, there lies a place,
'Twas call'd Hesperia by the Grecian race,
(For martial deeds and fruits, renown'd by fame)
But since Italia, from the leader's name;
To that blest shore we steer'd our destin'd way,
When sudden, dire Orion rous'd the sea;
All charg'd with tempests rose the baleful star,
And on our navy pour'd his wat’ry war ;
With sweeping whirlwinds cast our vessels wide,
Dash'd on rough rocks, or driving with the tide,
The few sad relics of our navy bore
Their course to this unhospitable shore.
What are the customs of this barbarous place?
What more than savage this inhuman race?
In arms they rise, and drive us from the strand,
From the last verge, and limits of the land.
Know, if divine and human laws you slight,
The gods, the gods will all our wrongs requite;
Vengeance is their's; and their's to guard his right.
Eneas was our king, of high renown;
Great, good, and brave; and war was all his own.
If still he lives, and breathes this vital air,
Nor we, his friends and subjects, shall despair;
Nor you, great queen, repent, that you employ
Your kind compassion in the cause of Troy.
Besides, on high the Trojan ensigns soar,
And Trojan cities grace Sicilia's shore;
Where great Acestes, of the Dardan strain,
Deriv'd from ancient Teucer, holds his reign.
Permit us, from your woods, new planks and oars
To fell, and bring our vessels on your shores;
That, if our prince and friends return again,
With joy, from Latium, we may plough the main.
But if those hopes are vanish'd quite away,
If lost, and swallow'd in the Libyan sea,
You lie, great guardian of the Trojan state,
And young Iülus shares his father's fate;
Oh! let us sink Sicilia's shores again,
And fly from hence to good Acestes' reign."
He spoke a loud assent ran murmuring through
the train.

Thus then, in short, the gracious queen replies,
While on the ground she fix'd her modest eyes:
"Trojans, be bold; against my will, my fate,
A throne unsettled, and an infant state,
Bid me defend my realms with all my pow'rs,
And guard with these severities my shores.
Lives there a stranger to the Trojan name,
Their valour, arms, and chiefs of mighty fame?
We know the war that set the world on fire;
Nor are so void of sense the sons of Tyre:

For here his beams indulgent Phœbus sheds,
And rolls his flaming chariot o'er our heads.
Scek you, my friends, the blest Saturnian plains,
Or fair Trinacria, where Acestes reigns?
With aids supply'd, and furnish'd from my stores,
Safe will I send you from the Libyan shores.
Or would you stay to raise this growing town?
Fix here your seat; and Carthage is your own.
Haste, draw your ships to shore; to me the same,
Your Troy and Tyre shall differ but in name.
And oh that great Æneas had been tost,
By the same storm, on the same friendly coast!
But I will send, my borders to explore,
And trace the windings of the mazy shore.
Perchance, already thrown on these abodes,
He roams the towns, or wanders thro' the woods."
Rais'd in their hopes the friend and hero stood;
And long'd to break, transported, from the cloud.
"Oh! goddess-born!" cry'd brave Achates, "say,
What are your thoughts, and why this long delay?
All safe you see; your friends and fleet restor'd;
One (whom we saw) the whirling gulf devour'd.
Lo! with the rest your mother's words agree,
All but Orontes 'scap'd the raging sea."

Swift as he spoke, the vapours break away,
Dissolve in ether, and refine to day.
Radiant, in open view, Æneas stood,
In form and looks, majestic as a god.

Flush'd with the bloom of youth, his features shine,
His hair in ringlets waves with grace divine.
The queen of love the glance divine supplies,
And breathes immortal spirit in his eyes.
Like Parian marble beauteous to behold,
Or silver's milder gleam in burnish'd gold,
Or polish'd iv'ry, shone the godlike man:
All stood surpris'd; and thus the prince began:

Eneas, whom you seek, you here survey;
Escap'd the tempest of the Libyan sea,
O Dido, gracious queen, who make alone
The woes, and cause, of wretched Troy your own;
And shelter in your walls, with pious care,
Her sons, the relics of the Grecian war;
Who all the forms of misery have bore,
Storms on the sea, and dangers on the shore;
Nor we, nor all the Dardan nation, hurl'd
Wide o'er the globe, and scatter'd round the world,
But the good gods, with blessings, shall repay
Your bounteous deeds, the gods and only they;
(If pious acts, if justice they regard ;)
And your clear conscience stands its own reward.
How blest this age, that has such virtue seen!
How blest the parents of so great a queen!
While to the sea the rivers roll, and shades
With awful pomp surround the mountain heads;
While ether shines, with golden planets grac'd,
So long your honour, name, and praise, shall last:
Whatever realm my fortune has assign'd,
Still will I bear your image in my mind."

This said, the pious chief of Troy extends His hands around, and hails his joyful friends: His left Sergestus grasp'd with vast delight, To great Ilioneus he gave the right. Cloanthus, Gyas, and the Dardan train, All, in their turns, embrac'd the prince again. Charm'd with his presence, Dido gaz'd him o'er, Admir'd his fortune much, his person more. "What fate, O goddess-born," she said, "has tost So brave a hero on this barbarous coast? Are you Æneas, who in Ida's grove Sprung from Anchises and the queen of love

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By Simois' streams? and now I call to mind,
When Teucer left his native shores behind;
The banish'd prince to Sidon came, to gain
Great Belus' aid, to fix him in his reign;
Then the rich Cyprian isle, my warlike sire
Subdu'd, and ravag'd wide with sword and fire.
From him I learnt the Grecian kings of fame,
The fall of Ilion, and your glorious name:
He on your valour, though a foe, with joy
Would dwell, and proudly trace his birth from
Troy.

Come to my palace then, my royal guest,
And, with your friends, indulge the genial feast.
My wand'rings and my fate resembling yours,
At length I settled on these Libyan shores;
And, touch'd with miseries myself have known,
I view, with pity, woes so like my own."

She spoke, then leads him to her proud abodes,
Ordains a feast, and offerings to the gods.
Twice fifty bleating lambs and ewes she sends,
And twice ten brawny oxen to his friends :
A hundred bristly boars, and monstrous swine;
With Bacchus' gifts, a store of generous wine.
The inner rooms in regal pomp display'd,
The splendid feasts in ample halls are made;
Where, labour'd o'er with art, rich carpets lie,
That glow refulgent with the purple dye.
The boards are pil'd with plate of curious mould;
And their forefathers' deeds, in times of old,
Blaz'd round the bowls, and charg'd the rising gold.
No more the prince his eager love suppress'd,
All the fond parent struggled in his breast.
He sends Achates to inform his son,
And guide the young Ascanius to the town;
(On his Ascanius turn his fear and joy,
The father's cares are center'd in the boy);
To bring rich presents to the queen of Tyre,
And relics, rescu'd from the Trojan fire.
A mantle wrought with saffron foliage round;
And a stiff robe with golden figures crown'd;
Fair Helen's dress, when, fir'd with lawless joy,
She left her native walls to ruin Troy,
(Her mother's present in the bridal hour);
With gold a shining sceptre studded o'er,
That wont Ilione's fair hand to grace,
The eldest nymph of Priam's beauteous race;
Her necklace, strung with pearls; her crown, that
glows

Instarr'd with gems and gold in double rows.
To bring the splendid gifts without delay,
Swift to the fleet, Achates bends his way.

But beauteous Venus in her breast design'd
New wiles, and plann'd new counsels in her mind,
That winged Cupid to the court should come
Like sweet Ascanius, in Ascanius' room;
With the rich gifts the Tyrian queen inspire,
And kindle in her veins the raging fire.
Her dread of Juno's arts, who guards the place,
Her just suspicions of the treach'rous race,
Break, each revolving night, her golden rest;
And thus the suppliant queen the god address'd:
"Oh son! my strength! supreme in Heav'n
above!

Whose arrows triumph o'er the bolts of Jove:
To thee I fly, thy succour to implore,
Court thy protection, and thy pow'r adore.
To tell how Juno's restless rage has tost
Your brother round the seas, and ev'ry coast,
Is but to mention what too well you know,
Who sigh'd my sighs, and wept a mother's woe.

Him, in her own town, the Tyrian queen detains,
With soft seducements, from the Latian plains,
But much I fear that hospitable place,
Where Juno reigns the guardian of the race:
And lest this fair occasion she improve,
Know, I design to fire the queen with love;
A love, beyond the cure of pow'rs divine;
A love as strong, and violent as mine.
But how the proud Phoenician to surprise
With such a passion, hear what I advise.
The royal youth, Ascanius, from the port,
Hastes, by his father's summons, to the court;
With costly presents charg'd he takes his way,
Sav'd from the Trojan flames, and stormy sea;
But to prevent suspicion, will I steep
His temples in the dews of balmy sleep,
Then to Cythera's sacred seats remove,
Or softly lay him in th' Idalian grove.
This one revolving night, thyself a boy,
Wear thou the features of the youth of Troy;
And when the queen, transported with thy charms,
Amidst the feast, shall strain thee in her arms,
The gentle poison by degrees inspire
Through all her breast; then fan the rising fire,
And kindle all her soul" The mother said,
With joy the god her soft commands obey'd.
Aside his quiver, and his wings he flung,
And, like the boy lulus, tript along."

Meantime the goddess on Ascanius throws
A balmy slumber and a sweet repose;
Lull'd in her lap to rest, the queen of love
Convey'd him to the high Idalian grove.
There on a flow'ry bed her charge she laid,
And, breathing round him, rose the fragrant shade.
Now Cupid, pleas'd his orders to obey,
Brought the rich gifts; Achates led the way.
He came, and found on costly carpets spread
The queen majestic, midst her golden bed.
The great Æneas and the Trojans lie
On pompous couches stain'd with Tyrian dye:
Soft towels for their hands th' attendants bring,
And limpid water from the crystal spring.
They wash; the menial train the tables spread;
And heap in glitt'ring canisters the bread.
To dress the feast, full fifty handmaids join,
And burn rich incense to the pow'rs divine;
A hundred boys and virgins stood around,
The banquet marshall'd, and the goblet crown'd.
To fill th' embroider'd beds the Tyrians come
Rank behind rank; and crowd the regal room.
The guests the gorgeous gifts and boy admire,
His voice, and looks, that glow with youthful

fire;

The veil and foliage wond'ring they behold,
And the rich robe that flam'd with figur'd gold:
But chief the queen, the boy and presents move,
The queen, already doom'd to fatal love.
Insatiate in her joy, she sat amaz'd,
Gaz'd on his face, and kindled as she gaz’d.
First, his dissembled father he caress'd,

Hung round his neck, and play'd upon his breast;
Next to the queen's embraces he withdrew;
She look'd, and sent her soul at ev'ry view:
Then took him on her lap, devour'd his charms;
Nor knew poor Dido, blind to future harms,
How great a god she fondled in her arms.
But he, now mindful of his mother, stole
By slow degrees Sichæus from her soul;
Her soul, rekindling, in her husband's stead,
Admits the prince ;. the living for the dead.

Soon as the banquet paus'd, to raise their souls With sparkling wine they crown the massy bow is. Through the wide hall the rolling echo bounds, The palace rings, the vaulted dome resounds. The blazing torches, and the lamps display, From golden roofs, an artificial day. Now Dido crowns the bowl of state with wine, The bowl of Belus, and the regal line. Her hands aloft the shining goblet hold, (gold Pond'rous with gems, and rough with sculptur'd When silence was proclaim'd, the royal fair Thus to the gods address'd her fervent pray'r:

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Almighty Jove! who plead'st the stranger's Great guardian god of hospitable laws! [cause; Oh! grant this day to circle still with joy, Through late posterity, to Tyre and Troy. Be thou, O Bacchus! god of mirth, a guest; And thou, O Juno! grace the genial feast. And you, my lords of Tyre, your fears remove, And show your guests benevolence and love." She said, and on the board, in open view, The first libation to the gods she threw : Then sipp'd the wine, and gave to Bitias' hand: He rose, obedient to the queen's command; At once the thirsty Trojan swill'd the whole, Sunk the full gold, and drain'd the foaming bowl. Then thro' the peers, with sparkling nectar crown'd, The goblet circles, and the health goes round. With curling tresses grac'd, and rich attire, Iopas stands, and sweeps the golden lyre; The truths, which ancient Atlas taught, he sings, And Nature's secrets, on the sounding strings. Why Cynthia changes; why the Sun retires, Shorn of his radiant beams, and genial fires; From what originals, and causes, came Mankind and beasts, the rain, and rising flame; Arcturus, dreadful with his stormy star; The wat'ry Hyads, and the northern Car; Why suns in summer the slow night detain, And rush so swift in winter to the main. With shouts the Tyrians praise the song divine, And in the loud applause the Trojaus join. The queen, in various talk, prolongs the hours, Drinks deep of love, and ev'ry word devours; This moment longs of Hector to inquire, The next of Priam, his unhappy sire; What arms adorn'd Aurora's glorious son; How high, above his hosts, Achilles shone; How brave Tydides thunder'd on his car; How his fierce coursers swept the ranks of war. Nay, but at large, my godlike guest, relate The Grecian wiles," she said, "and Ilion's fate;. How far your course around the globe extends, And what the woes and fortunes of your friends: For, since you wander'd every shore and sea, Have sev'n revolving summers roll'd away."

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VIRGIL'S ÆNEID.

BOOK II.

ARGUMENT.

Eneas relates how the city of Troy was taken, after a ten years' siege, by the treachery of Sinon, and the stratagem of a wooden horse. He declares

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