Green boughs and saplings, núngled in their haste,
And smoking torches, on the snips they cast.
The flame, unstopp'd at first, more fury gains;
And Vulcan rides at large with loosen'd reins:
Triumphant to the painted stern he soars,
And seizes, in his way, the banks, and crackling
Eumelus was the first the news to bear,
While yet they crowd the rural theatre.
Then, what they hear, is witness'd by their
eyes:
A storm of sparkles, and of flames, arise.
Ascanius took th' alarm, while yet he led,
His early warriors on his prancing steed,
And, spurring on, his equals soon o'erpass'd;
Nor could his frighted friends reclaim his haste.
Soon as the royal youth appear'd in view,
He sent his voice before him as he flew :
"What madness moves you, matrons! to de-
stroy
The last remainders of unhappy Troy?
Not hostile fleets, but your own hopes you burn,
And on your friends your fatal fury turn.
Behold your own Ascanius!"-While he said,
He drew his glitt'ring helmet from his head,
In which the youths to sportful arms he led.
By this, Æneas and his train appear;
And now the women, seiz'd with shame and
fear,
Dispers'd, to woods and caverns take their flight,
Abhor their actions, and avoid the light;
Their friends acknowledge, and their error find,
And shake the goddess from their alter'd mind.
Not so the raging fires their fury cease,
But, lurking in the seams, with seeming peace,
Work on their way amid the smould'ring tow,
Sure in destruction, but in motion slow.
The silent plague through the green timber
eats,
And vomits out a tardy flame by fits,
Down to the keels, and upward to the sails, The fire descends, or mounts, but still prevails; Nor buckets pour'd, nor strength of human hand, Can the victorious element withstand.
The pious hero rends his robe, and throws To heav'n his hands, and with his hands, his
"O Jove! (he cried,) if pray'rs can yet have place;
If thou abhor'st not all the Dardan race;
If any spark of pity still remain;
If gods are gods, and not invok'd in vain;
Yet spare the relics of the Trojan train!
Yet from the flames our burning vessels free!
Or let thy fury fall alone on me;
At this devoted head thy hunder throw,
And send the willing sacrifice below."
Scarce had he said, when southern storms arise:
From pole to pole, the forky lightning flies: Loud rattling shakes the mountains and the plain :
Heav'n bellies downward, and descends in rain. Whole sheets of water from the clouds are sent,
Which hissing through the planks the flames prevent,
And stop the fiery pest. Four ships alone
Burn to the waist, and four the fleet atone.
But doubtful thoughts the hero's heart divide,
If he should still in Sicily reside,
Forgetful of the fates,-or tempt the main,
In hope the promis'd Italy to gain.
When Nautes old and wise-to whom alone
The will of heav'n by Pallas was foreshown-
Vers'd in portents, experienc'd and inspir'd
To tell events, and what the Fates requir'd,
Thus while he stood, to neither part inclin'd,
With cheerful words reliev'd his lab'ring mind:
"O goddess-born! resign'd in ev'ry state,
With patience bear, with prudence push your
fate.
By suff'ring well, our fortune we subdue ;
Fly when she frowns; and when she calls pur-
Your friend Acestes is of Trojan kind;
To him disclose the secrets of your mind;
Trust in his hands your old and useless train,
Too num'rous for the ships which yet remain-
The feeble, old, indulgent of their ease,
The dames who dread the dangers of the seas,
With all the dastard crew who dare not stand
The shock of battle with your foes by land.
Here
you may build a common town for all,
And, from Acestes' name, Acesta call."
The reason, with his friend's experience join'd,
Encourag'd much, but more disturb'd his mind.
'T was dead of night; when to his slumb’ring
His father's shade descended from the skies;
And thus he spoke ; " O, more than vital breath,
Lov'd while I liv'd, and dear ev'n after death'
O son, in various toils and troubles toss'd!
The king of heav'n employs my careful ghost
On his commands-the god who sav'd from fire
Your flaming fleet, and heard your just desire,
The wholesome counsel of your friend receive,
And here the coward train and women leave;
The chosen youth, and those who nobly dare,
Transport, to tempt the dangers of the war.
The stern Italians will their courage try;
Rough are their manners, and their minds are
high.
But first to Pluto's palace you shall go,
And seek my shade among the blest below:
For not with impious ghosts my soul remains,
Nor surers, with the damn'd, perpetual pains,
But breathes the living air of soft Elysian plains.
The chaste Sybilla shall your steps convey,
And blood of offer'd victims free the way.
There shall you know what realms the gods
assign,
And learn the fates and fortunes of your line.
But now farewell! I vanish with the night,
And feel the blast of heav'n's approaching
light."
He said, and mix'd with shades, and took his airy flight.
"Whither so fast?" the filial duty cried;
"Ah why, ah! why the wish'd embrace de-
nied?"
He said, and rose: as holy zeal inspires,
He rakes hot embers, and renews the fires;
His country gods and Vesta then adores
With cakes and incense, and their aid implores.
Next, for his friends and royal host he sent,
Reveal'd his vision, and the god's intent,
With his own purpose.-All, without delay,
The will of Jove, and his desires, obey.
They list with women each degen'rate name,
Who dares not hazard life for future fame.
These they cashier. The brave remaining few,
Oars, banks, and cables, half consum'd, renew.
The prince designs a city with the plough:
The lots their sev'ral tenements allow.
This part is nam'd from Ilium, that from Troy;
And the new king ascends the throne with joy:
A chosen senate from the people draws;
Appoints the judges, and ordains the laws.
Then, on the top of Eryx, they begin
A rising temple to the Paphian queen,
Anchises, last, is honour'd as a god:
A priest is added, annual gifts bestow'd;
And groves are planted round his blest abode.
Nine days they pass in feasts, their temples
crown'd;
And fumes of incense in the fanes abound,
Then from the south arose a gentle breeze,
That curl'd the smoothness of the glassy seas:
The rising winds a ruffling gale afford,
And call the merry mariners aboard.
Now loud laments along the shores resound,
Of parting friends in close embraces bound.
The trembling women, the degen'rate train
Who shunn'd the frightful dangers of the main,
E'en those desire to sail, and take their share
Of the rough passage, and the promis'd war;
Whom good Æneas cheers; and recommends
To their new master's care his fearful friends:
On Eryx' altars three fat calves he lays;
A lamb new-fallen to the stormy seas;
Then slips his halsers, and his anchors weighs.
High on the deck the godlike hero stands,
With olive crown'd, a charger in his hands,
Then cast the reeking entrails in the brine,
And pour'd the sacrifice of purple wine.
Fresh gales arise; with equal strokes they vie,
And brush the buxom seas, and o'er the billows
fly.
Meantime the mother-goddess, full of fears, To Neptune thus address'd, with tender tears: "The pride of Jove's imperious queen, the
The malice, which no suff'rings can assage, Compel me to these prayers; since neither fate,
Nor time, nor pity, can remove her hate.
E'en Jove is thwarted by his haughty wife
Still vanquish'd, yet she still renews the strife.
As if't were little to consume the town
Which aw'd the world, and wore th' imperial
She prosecutes the ghost of Troy with pains,
And gnaws, e'en to the bones, the last remains.
Let her the causes of her hatred tell;
But you can witness its effects too well.
You saw the storm she rais'd on Libyan floods,
That mix'd the mountain billows with the
clouds ;
When, bribing Eolus, she took the main,
And mov'd rebellion in your wat❜ry reign.
With fury she possess'd the Dardan dames,
To burn their fleet with execrable flames,
And forc'd Eneas, when his ships were lost,
To leave his followers on a foreign coast.
For what remains, your godhead I implore,
And trust my son to your protecting pow'r.
If neither Jove's nor Fate's decree withstand,
Secure his passage to the Latian land."
Then thus the mighty ruler of the main : "What may not Venus hope from Neptune's reign?
My kingdom claims your birth: my late defence Of your endanger'd fleet may claim your confidence.
Nor less by land than sea my deeds declare, How much your lov'd Æneas in my care. Thee, Xanthus! and thee, Simois! I attestYour Trojan troops when proud Achilles press'd,
And drove before him headlong on the plain. And dash'd against the walls the trembling
When floods were fill'd with bodies of the slain; When crimson Xanthus, doubtful of his way, Stood up on ridges to behold the sea; (New heaps come tumbling in, and chok'd hrs way.)
When your Æneas fought, but fought with odds Of force unequal, and unequal ¿nds ;
I spread a cloud before the victor's sight, Sustain'd the vanquish'd, and secur'd his flight
E'en then secur'd him, when I sought with joy
The vow'd destruction of ungrateful Troy.
My will's the same: fair goddess! fear no
Your fleet shall safely gain the Latian shore: Their lives are giv'n: one destin'd head alone Shall perish, and for multitudes atone." [mind, Thus having arm'd with hopes her anxious His finny team Saturnian Neptune join'd, Then adds the foamy bridle to their jaws, And to the loosen'd reins permits the laws. High on the waves his azure car he guides: Its axles thunder; and the sea subsides; And the smooth ocean rolls her silent tides. The tempests fly before their father's face; Trains of inferior gods his triumph grace; And monster whales before their master play, And choirs of Tritons crowd the wat'ry way. The marshall'd pow'rs in equal troops divide To right and left: the gods his better side Enclose; and, on the worse, the Nymphs and Nereids ride.
Now smiling hope, with sweet vicissitude,
Within the hero's mind his joys renew'd.
He calls to raise the masts, the sheets display:
The cheerful crew with diligence obey;
They scud before the wind, and sail in open sea
Ahead of all, the master pilot steers,
And, as he leads, the following navy veers.
The steeds of Night had travell'd half the sky
The drowsy rowers on their benches lie;
When the soft god of sleep, with easy flight,
Descends, and draws behind a trail of light.
Thou, Palinurus, art his destin'd prey;
To thee alone he takes his fatal way.
Dire dreams to thee, and iron sleep, he bears;
And, lighting on thy prow, the form of Phor-
das wears.
Then thus the traitor god began his tale :
"The winds, my friend, inspire a pleasing gale;
The ships, without thy care, securely sail.
Now steal an hour of sweet repose; and I
Will take the rudder, and thy room supply."
To whom the yawning pilot, half asleep:
"Me dost thou bid to trust the treach'rous deep,
The harlot-smiles of her dissembling face,
And to her faith commit the Trojan race?
Shall I believe the Syren South again,
And, oft betray'd, not know the monster main ?"
He said; his fasten'd hands the rudder keep;
And fix'd on heaven, his eyes repel invading
sleep.
The god was wroth, and at his temples threw A branch in Lethe dipp'd, and drunk with Stygian dew:
The pilot, vanquish'd by the pow'r divine,
Soon clos'd his swimming eyes, and lay supine.
Scarce were his limbs extended at their length;
The god, insulting with superior strength,
Fell heavy on him, plung'd him in the sea,
And, with the stern, the rudder tore away.
Headlong he fell, and struggling in the main,
Cried out for helping hands, but cried in vain.
The victor demon mounts obscur'd in air;
While the ship sails without the pilot's care.
On Neptune's faith the floating fleet relies:
But what the man forsook, the god supplies,
And o'er the dang'rous deep, secure the navy
flies;
Glides by the Syren's cliffs, a shelfy coast,
Long infamous for ships and sailors lost,
And white with bones. Th' impetuous ocean
And rocks rebellow from the sounding shores.
The watchful hero felt the knocks; and found
The tossing vessel sail'd on shoaly ground,
Sure of his pilot's loss, he takes himself
The helm, and steers aloof, and shuns the shelf.
Inly he griev'd, and, groaning from the breast,
Deplor'd his death; and thus his pain express'd:
"For faith repos'd on seas, and on the flatt'ring
sky,
Thy naked corse is doom'd on shores unknown to lie."
The Sibyl foretells Eneas the adventures he should meet with in Italy. She attends him to hell; describing to him the various scenes of that place, and conducting him to his father Anchises, who instructs him in those sublime mysteries, of the soul of the world, and the transmigration; and shows him that glorious race of heroes, which was to descend from him and his posterity
He said, and wept; then spread his sails before The winds, and reach'd at length the Cuman
Their anchors dropp'd, his crew the vessels
They turn their heads to sea, their sterns to land,
And greet with greedy joy th' Italian strand.
Some strike from clashing flints their fiery seed
Some gather sticks, the kindled flames to feed,
Or search for hollow trees, and fell the wood,
Or trace through valleys the discover'd flood.
Thus while their sev'ral charges they fulfil,
The pious prince ascends the sacred hill
Where Phoebus is ador'd; and seeks the shade
Which hides from sight his venerable maid.
Deep in a cave the Sibyl makes abode ;
Thence full of fate returns, and of the god.
Through Trivia's grave they walk, and now
behold,
And enter now, the temple roof'd with gold.
When Daedalus, to fly the Cretan shore,
His heavy limbs, on jointed pinions bore,
(The first who sail'd in air,) 't is sung by Fame,
To the Cumæan coast, at length he came,
And here alighting, built this costly frame.
Inscrib'd to Phoebus, here he hung on high
The steerage of his wings, that cut the sky:
Then o'er the lofty gate, his art emboss'd
Androgeos' death, and (off'rings to his ghost)
Sev'n youths from Athens, yearly sent to meet,
The fate appointed by revengeful Crete.
And next to these the dreadful urn was plac'd,
in which the destin'd names by lots were cast:
The mournful parents stand around in tears;
And rising Crete against their shore appears.
There too, in living sculpture, might be seen
The mad affection of the Cretan queen ;
Then how she cheats her bellowing lover's eye;
The rushing leap, the doubtful progeny-
The lower part a beast, a man above-
The monument of their polluted love.
Nor far from thence he grav'd the wondrous
A thousand doors, a thousand winding ways:
Here dwells the monster hid from human view,
Not to be found but by the faithful clue;
Till the kind artist, mov'd with pious grief,
Lent to the loving maid this last relief,
And all those erring paths describ'd so well
That Theseus conquer'd, and the monster
fell.
Here hapless Icarus had found his part,
Had not the father's grief restrain'd his art.
He twice essay'd to cast his son in gold;
Twice from his hands he dropp'd the forming
mould.
All this with wond'ring eyes Æneas view'd: Each varying object his delight renew'd. Eager to read the rest-Achates came, And by his side the mad divining dame, The priestess of the god, Deiphobe her name. "Time suffers not," she said, "to feed your eyes
With empty pleasures: haste the sacrifice.
Sev'n bullocks, yet unyok'd, for Phoebus choose,
And for Diana sev'n unspotted ewes."
This said, the servants urge the sacred rites,
While to the temple she the prince invites.
A spacious cave, within its farmost part,
Was hew'd and fashion'd by laborious art,
Through the hill's hollow sides: before the
place,
A hundred doors a hundred entries grace:
As many voices issue, and the sound
Of Sibyl's words as many times rebound.
Now to the mouth they come. Aloud she
cries,
"This is the time! inquire your destinies!
He comes! behold the god!" Thus while sho
said,
(And shiv'ring at the sacred entry stay'd,) Her colour chang'd; her face was not the
And hollow groans from her deep spirit came. Her hair stood up; convulsive rage possess'd Her trembling limbs, and heav'd her lab'ring breast.
Greater than human kind she seem'd to look, And with an accent more than mortal spoke. Her staring eyes with sparkling fury roll, When all the god came rushing on her soul. Swiftly she turn'd, and, foaming as she spoke, "Why this delay ?" she cried-" the pow'rs invoke.
Thy pray'rs alone can open this abode :
Else vain are my demands, and dumb the god."
She said no more. The trembling Trojans
hear,
O'erspad with a damp sweat, and holy fear.
The prince himself, with awful dread possess'd,
His vows to great Apollo thus address'd:
"Indulgent god! propitious pow'r to Troy.
Swift to relieve, unwilling to destroy!
Directed by whose hand, the Dardan dart,
Pierc'd the proud Grecian's only mortal part!
Thus far, by Fate's decrees, and thy commands,
Through ambient seas, and through devouring
[ground:
Our exil'd crew has sought th' Ausonian And now, at length, the flying coast is found. Thus far the fate of Troy, from place to place, With fury has pursu'd her wand'ring race. Here cease, ye pow'rs, and let your vengeance
Troy is no more, and can no more offend.
And thou, O sacred maid, inspir'd to see
The event of things in dark futurity;
Give me what heav'n has promis'd to my fate,
To conquer and command the Latian state;
To fix my wand'ring gods, and find a place
For the long exiles of the Trojan race:
Then shall my grateful hands a temple rear
To the twin gods, with vows and solemn pray',
And annual rites, and festivals, and games,
Shall be perform'd to their auspicious names.
Nor shalt thou want thy honours in my land:
For there thy faithful oracles shall stand,
Preserv'd in shrines: and ev'ry sacred lay
Which by thy mouth Apollo shall convey-
All shall be treasur'd by a chosen train
Of holy priests, and ever shall remain.
But oh! commit not thy prophetic mind
To flitting leaves, the sport of ev'ry wind,
Lest they disperse in air our empty fate.
Write not, but what the pow'rs ordain relate."
Struggling in vain, impatient of her load,
And lab'ring underneath the pond'rous god,
The more she strove to shake him from her
breast,
With more and far superior force he press'd;
Commands his entrance, and without control,
Usurps her organs, and inspires her soul.
Now, with a furious blast, the hundred doors
Ope of themselves; a rushing whirlwind roars
Within the cave, and Sibyl's voice restores :
"Escap'd the dangers of the wat'ry reign,
Yet more and greater ills by land remain,
The coast, so long desir'd, (nor doubt th' event,)
Thy troops shall reach, but, having reach'd
repent.
Wars, horrid wars, I view-a field of blood,
And Tyber rolling with a purple flood.
Simois nor Xanthus shall be wanting there:
A new Achilles shall in arms appear,
And he, too, goddess-born. Fierce Juno's hate,
Added to hostile force, shall urge thy fate.
To what strange nation shalt not thou resort,
Driv'n to solicit aid at every court!
The cause the same which Ilium once oppres'd
A foreign mistress, and a foreign guest.
But thou, secure of soul, unbent with woes,
The more thy fortune frowns, the more oppose.
The dawnings of thy safety shall be shown,
From-whence thou least shall hope-a Gre-
cian town."
Thus, from the dark recess, the Sibyl spoke;
And the resisting air the thunder broke;
The cave rebellow'd, and the temple shook.
Th' ambiguous god, who rul'd her lab'ring
breast,
In these mysterious words his mind express'd,
Some truths reveal'd, in terms involv'd the rest.
At length her fury fell; her foaming ceas'd,
And, ebbing in her soul, the god decreas'd.
Then thus the chief: "No terror to my view
No frightful face of danger can be new.
Inur'd to suffer, and resolv'd to dare,
The Fates, without my pow'r, shall be without
my care.
[road
This let me crave-since near your grove the
To hell lies open, and the dark abode,
Which Acheron surrounds, th' innavigable
flood-
Conduct me through the regions void of light,
And lead ine longing to my father's sight.
For him, a thousand dangers I have sought,
And, rushing where the thickest Grecians fought,
Safe on my back the sacred burden brought.
He, for my sake, the raging ocean tried,
And wrath of heav'n, (my still auspicious guide,)
And bore, beyond the strength decrepit age
supplied.
Oft since he breath'd his last, in dead of night,
His rev'rend iinage stood before my sight;
Enjoin'd to seek, below, his holy shade-
Conducted there by your unerring aid.
But you, if pious minds by pray'rs are won,
Oblige the father, and protect the son.
Yours is the pow'r; nor Proserpine in vain
Has made you priestess of her nightly reign.
If Orpheus, arm'd with his enchanting lyre,
The ruthless king with pity could inspire,
And from the shades below redeem his wife,
If Pollux, off'ring his alternate life,
Could free his brother, and can daily go
By turns aloft, by turns descend below;-
Why name I Theseus, or his greater friend,
Who trod the downward path, and upward
could ascend?--
[came;
Not less than theirs, from Jove my lineage
My mother greater, my descent the same."
So pray'd the Trojan prince, and, while he
pray'd,
His hand upon the holy altar laid.
Then thus replied the prophetess divine:
"O goddess-born, of great Anchises' line!
The gates of hell are open night and day;
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way
But, to return, and view the cheerful skies
In this the task and mighty labour lies.
To few great Jupiter imparts this grace,
And those of shining worth, and heav'nly race.
Betwixt those regions and our upper light,
Deep forests and impenetrable night
Possess the middle space: th' infernal bounds
Cocytus, with his sable waves, surrounds.
But, if so dire a love your soul invades,
As twice below to view the trembling shades,
If you so hard a toil will undertake,
As twice to pass th' innavigable lake;
Receive my counsel. In the neighb'ring grove
There stands a tree: the queen of Stygian Jove
Claims it her own: thick woods and gloomy
night
Conceal the happy plant from human sight.
One bough it bears; but (wond'rous to behold)
The ductile rind and leaves of radiant gold:
This from the vulgar branches must be torn,
And to fair Proserpine the present borne,
Ere leave be giv'n to tempt the nether skies.
The first thus rent, a second will arise;
And the same metal the same room supplies,
Look round the wood with lified eyes, to see
The lurking gold upon the fatal tree:
Then rend it off, as holy rites command
The willing metal will obey thy hand,
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