The Æneids of Virgil, Done into English Verse. Virgil

came thronging from without

       The Tyrians, and, so bidden, lie on benches painted fair.

       They wonder at Æneas' gifts, and at Iulus there,

       The flaming countenance of God, and speech so feigned and fine;710

       They wonder at the cope and veil with that acanthus twine.

       And chiefly that unhappy one doomed to the coming ill,

       Nor hungry hollow of her heart nor burning eyes may fill

       With all beholding: gifts and child alike her heart do move.

       But he, when he had satisfied his feignèd father's love,

       And clipped Æneas all about, and round his neck had hung,

       Went to the Queen, who with her eyes and heart about him clung,

       And whiles would strain him to her breast—poor Dido! knowing nought

       What God upon her bosom sat; who ever had in thought

       His Acidalian mother's word, and slowly did begin720

       To end Sychæus quite, and with a living love to win

       Her empty soul at rest, and heart unused a weary tide.

      But when the feasting first was stayed, and boards were done aside,

       Great beakers there they set afoot, and straight the wine they crowned.

       A shout goes up within the house, great noise they roll around

       The mighty halls: the candles hang adown from golden roof

       All lighted, and the torches' flame keeps dusky night aloof.

       And now a heavy bowl of gold and gems the Queen bade bring

       And fill with all unwatered wine, which erst used Belus king,729

       And all from Belus come: therewith through the hushed house she said:

      "O Jupiter! they say by thee the guesting laws were made;

       Make thou this day to Tyrian folk, and folk come forth from Troy,

       A happy day, and may our sons remember this our joy!

       Mirth-giver Bacchus, fail thou not from midst our mirth! be kind,

       O Juno! and ye Tyrian folk, be glad this bond to bind!"

      She spake, and on the table poured the glorious wave of wine,

       Then touched the topmost of the bowl with dainty lip and fine,

       And, egging on, to Bitias gave: nought slothful to be told

       The draught he drained, who bathed himself within the foaming gold;

       Then drank the other lords of them: long-haired Iopas then740

       Maketh the golden harp to sing, whom Atlas most of men

       Erst taught: he sings the wandering moon and toiling of the sun,

       And whence the kind of men and beasts, how rain and fire begun,

       Arcturus, the wet Hyades, and twin-wrought Northern Bears:

       And why so swift the winter sun unto his sea-bath fares,

       And what delayeth night so long upon the daylight's hem.

       Then praise on praise the Tyrians shout, the Trojans follow them.

      Meanwhile unhappy Dido wore the night-tide as it sank

       In diverse talk, and evermore long draughts of love she drank,

       And many a thing of Priam asked, of Hector many a thing:750

       With what-like arms Aurora's son had come unto the King;

       What were the steeds of Diomed, how great Achilles was.

       At last she said:

       "But come, O guest, tell all that came to pass

       From earliest tide; of Danaan craft, and how thy land was lorn,

       And thine own wanderings; for as now the seventh year is worn

       That thee a-straying wide away o'er earth and sea hath borne."

BOOK II.

       Table of Contents

ARGUMENT.

       Table of Contents

      ÆNEAS TELLETH TO DIDO AND THE TYRIANS THE STORY OF TROY'S OVERTHROW.

      All hearkened hushed, and fixed on him was every face of man,

       As from the couch high set aloft Æneas thus began:

      "Unutterable grief, O Queen, thou biddest me renew

       The falling of the Trojan weal and realm that all shall rue

       'Neath Danaan might; which thing myself unhappy did behold,

       Yea, and was no small part thereof. What man might hear it told

       Of Dolopes, or Myrmidons, or hard Ulysses' band,

       And keep the tears back? Dewy night now falleth from the land

       Of heaven, and all the setting stars are bidding us to sleep:

       But if to know our evil hap thy longing is so deep,10

       If thou wilt hear a little word of Troy's last agony,

       Though memory shuddereth, and my heart shrunk up in grief doth lie,

       I will begin.

       By battle broke, and thrust aback by Fate

       Through all the wearing of the years, the Danaan lords yet wait

       And build a horse up mountain-huge by Pallas' art divine,

       Fair fashioning the ribs thereof with timbers of the pine,

       And feign it vowed for safe return, and let the fame fly forth.

       Herein by stealth a sort of men chosen for bodies' worth

       Amid its darkness do they shut; the caverns inly lost

       Deep in the belly of the thing they fill with armed host.20

      In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an island known of all,

       And rich in wealth before the realm of Priam had its fall,

       Now but a bay and roadstead poor, where scarcely ships may ride.

       So thither now they sail away in desert place to hide.

       We thought them gone, and that they sought Mycenæ on a wind,

       Whereat the long-drawn grief of Troy fell off from every mind.

      The gates are opened; sweet it is the Dorian camp to see,

       The dwellings waste, the shore all void where they were wont to be:

       Here dwelt the band of Dolopes, here was Achilles set,29

       And this was where their ships were beached; here edge to edge we met.

       Some wonder at unwedded maid Minerva's gift of death,

       That baneful mountain of a horse; and first Thymœtes saith

       'Twere good in walls to lead the thing, on topmost burg to stand;

       Whether such word the fate of Troy or evil treason planned

       I know not: Capys and the rest, who better counsel have,

       Bid take the fashioned guile of Greeks, the doubtful gift they gave,

       To tumble it adown to sea, with piled-up fire to burn,

       Or bore the belly of the beast its hidden holes to learn;

       So cleft atwain is rede of men abiding