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The North-wind shifted and the skies serene; Thy ships have gained the harbour which they sought,
| LIII . | "See yon twelve swans, in jubilant array, Whom late Jove's eagle scattered through the sky; Now these alight, now those the pitch survey. As they, returning, sport with joyous cry, And flap their wings and circle in the sky, E'en so thy vessels and each late-lost crew Safe now and scatheless in the harbour lie, Or, crowding canvas, hold the port in view. | 469 | |
| But hence, where leads the path, thy forward steps pursue." | |||
| LIV . | So saying, she turned, and all refulgent showed Her roseate neck, and heavenly fragrance sweet Was breathed from her ambrosial hair. Down flowed Her loosened raiment, streaming to her feet, And by her walk the Goddess shone complete. "Ah, mother mine!" he chides her, as she flies, "Art thou, then, also cruel? Wherefore cheat Thy son so oft with images and lies? | 478 | |
| Why may I not clasp hands, and talk without disguise?" | |||
| LV . | Thus he, reproaching. Towards the town they fare In haste. But Venus round them on the way Wrapt a thick mist, a mantle of dark air, That none should see them, none should touch nor stay, Nor, urging idle questions, breed delay. Then back, rejoicing, through the liquid air To Paphos and her home she flies away, Where, steaming with Sabæan incense rare, | 487 | |
| An hundred altars breathe with garlands fresh and fair. | |||
| LVI . | They by the path their forward steps pursued, And climbed a hill, whose fronting summit frowned Steep o'er the town. Amazed, Æneas viewed Tall structures rise, where whilom huts were found, The streets, the gates, the bustle and the sound. Hotly the Tyrians are at work. These draw The bastions' lines, roll stones and trench the ground; Or build the citadel; those clothe with awe | 496 | |
| The Senate; there they choose the judges for the law. | |||
| LVII . | These delve the port; the broad foundations there They lay for theatres of ample space, And columns, hewn from marble rocks, prepare, Tall ornaments, the future stage to grace. As bees in early summer swarm apace Through flowery fields, when forth from dale and dell They lead the full-grown offspring of the race, Or with the liquid honey store each cell, | 505 | |
| And make the teeming hive with nectarous sweets to swell. | |||
| LVIII . | These ease the comers of their loads, those drive The drones afar. The busy work each plies, And sweet with thyme and honey smells the hive. "O happy ye, whose walls already rise!" Exclaimed Æneas, and with envious eyes Looked up where pinnacles and roof-tops showed The new-born city; then in wondrous wise, Clothed in the covering of the friendly cloud, | 514 | |
| Passed through the midst unseen, and mingled with the crowd. | |||
| LIX . | A grove stood in the city, rich in shade, Where storm-tost Tyrians, past the perilous brine, Dug from the ground, by royal Juno's aid, A war-steed's head, to far-off days a sign That wealth and prowess should adorn the line. Here, by the goddess and her gifts renowned, Sidonian Dido built a stately shrine. All brazen rose the threshold; brass was round | 523 | |
| The door-posts; brazen doors on grating hinges sound. | |||
| LX . | Here a new sight Æneas' hopes upraised, And fear was softened, and his heart was mann'd. For while, the queen awaiting, round he gazed, And marvelled at the happy town, and scanned The rival labours of each craftsman's hand, Behold, Troy's battles on the walls appear, The war, since noised through many a distant land, There Priam and th' Atridæ twain, and here | 532 | |
| Achilles, fierce to both, still ruthless and severe. | |||
| LXI . | Pensive he stood, and with a rising tear, "What lands, Achates, on the earth, but know Our labours? See our Priam! Even here Worth wins her due, and there are tears to flow, And human hearts to feel for human woe. Fear not," he cries, "Troy's glory yet shall gain Some safety." Thus upon the empty show He feeds his soul, while ever and again | 541 | |
| Deeply he sighs, and tears run down his cheeks like rain. | |||
| LXII . | He sees, how, fighting round the Trojan wall, Here fled the Greeks, the Trojan youth pursue, Here fled the Phrygians, and, with helmet tall, Achilles in his chariot stormed and slew. Not far, with tears, the snowy tents he knew Of Rhesus, where Tydides, bathed in blood, Broke in at midnight with his murderous crew, And drove the hot steeds campward, ere the food | 550 | |
| Of Trojan plains they browsed, or drank the Xanthian flood. | |||
| LXIII . | There, reft of arms, poor Troilus, rash to dare Achilles, by his horses dragged amain, Hangs from his empty chariot. Neck and hair Trail on the ground; his hand still grasps the rein; The spear inverted scores the dusty plain. Meanwhile, with beaten breasts and streaming hair, The Trojan dames, a sad and suppliant train, The veil to partial Pallas' temple bear. | 559 | |
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Stern, with averted eyes the Goddess spurns their
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