The Æneid of Virgil, Translated into English Verse. Virgil
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the furious wave, When through the clear sky looking o'er the main,
| XXII . | Tired out, the Trojans seek the nearest land And turn to Libya.—In a far retreat There lies a haven; towards the deep doth stand An island, on whose jutting headlands beat The broken billows, shivered into sleet. Two towering crags, twin giants, guard the cove, And threat the skies. The waters at their feet Sleep hushed, and, like a curtain, frowns above, | 190 | |
| Mixt with the glancing green, the darkness of the grove. | |||
| XXIII . | Beneath a precipice, that fronts the wave, With limpid springs inside, and many a seat Of living marble, lies a sheltered cave, Home of the Sea-Nymphs. In this haven sweet Cable nor biting anchor moors the fleet. Here with seven ships, the remnant of his band, Æneas enters. Glad at length to greet The welcome earth, the Trojans leap to land, | 199 | |
| And lay their weary limbs still dripping on the sand. | |||
| XXIV . | First from a flint a spark Achates drew, And lit the leaves and dry wood heaped with care And set the fuel flaming, as he blew. Then, tired of toiling, from the ships they bear The sea-spoiled corn, and Ceres' tools prepare, And 'twixt the millstones grind the rescued grain And roast the pounded morsels for their fare: While up the crag Æneas climbs, to gain | 208 | |
| Full prospect far and wide, and scan the distant main. | |||
| XXV . | If aught of Phrygian biremes he discern Antheus or Capys, tost upon the seas, Or arms of brave Caicus high astern. No sail, but wandering on the shore he sees Three stags, and, grazing up the vale at ease, The whole herd troops behind them in a row. He stops, and from Achates hastes to seize His chance-brought arms, the arrows and the bow, | 217 | |
| The branching antlers smites, and lays the leader low. | |||
| XXVI . | Next fall the herd; and through the leafy glade In mingled rout he drives the scattered train, Plying his shafts, nor stays his conquering raid Till seven huge bodies on the ground lie slain, The number of his vessels; then again He seeks the crews, and gives a deer to each, Then opes the casks, which good Acestes, fain At parting, filled on the Trinacrian beach, | 226 | |
| And shares the wine, and soothes their drooping hearts with speech. | |||
| XXVII . | "Comrades! of ills not ignorant; far more Than these ye suffered, and to these as well Will Jove give ending, as he gave before. Ye know mad Scylla, and her monsters' yell, And the dark caverns where the Cyclops dwell. Fear not; take heart; hereafter, it may be These too will yield a pleasant tale to tell. Through shifting hazards, by the Fates' decree, | 235 | |
| To Latin shores we steer, our promised land to see. | |||
| XXVIII . | "There quiet settlements the Fates display, There Troy her ruined fortunes shall repair. Bear up; reserve you for a happier day." He spake, and heart-sick with a load of care, Suppressed his grief, and feigned a cheerful air. All straightway gird them to the feast. These flay The ribs and thighs, and lay the entrails bare. Those slice the flesh, and split the quivering prey, | 244 | |
| And tend the fires and set the cauldrons in array. | |||
| XXIX . | So wine and venison, to their hearts' desire, Refreshed their strength. And when the feast was sped, Their missing friends in converse they require, Doubtful to deem them, betwixt hope and dread, Alive or out of hearing with the dead. All mourned, but good Æneas mourned the most, And bitter tears for Amycus he shed, Gyas, Cloanthus, bravest of his host, | 253 | |
| Lycus, Orontes bold, all counted with the lost. | |||
| XXX . | Now came an end of mourning and of woe, When Jove, surveying from his prospect high Shore, sail-winged sea, and peopled earth below, Stood, musing, on the summit of the sky, And on the Libyan kingdom fixed his eye, To him, such cares revolving in his breast, Her shining eyes suffused with tears, came nigh Fair Venus, for her darling son distrest, | 262 | |
| And thus in sorrowing tones the Sire of heaven addressed; | |||
| XXXI . | "O Thou, whose nod and awful bolts attest O'er Gods and men thine everlasting reign, Wherein hath my Æneas so transgressed, Wherein his Trojans, thus to mourn their slain, Barred from the world, lest Italy they gain? Surely from them the rolling years should see New sons of ancient Teucer rise again, The Romans, rulers of the land and sea. | 271 | |
| So swar'st thou; Father, say, why changed is thy decree? | |||
| XXXII . | "That word consoled me, weighing fate with fate, For Troy's sad fall. Now Fortune, as before, Pursues the woe-worn victims of her hate. O when, great Monarch, shall their toil be o'er? Safe could Antenor pass th' Illyrian shore Through Danaan hosts, and realms Liburnian gain, And climb Timavus and her springs explore, Where through nine mouths, with roaring surge, the main | 280 | |
| Bursts from the sounding rocks and deluges the plain. | |||