Virgil

The Æneids of Virgil, Done into English Verse


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on the ground

       She lieth white, with piglings white their mother's dugs around—

       That earth shall be thy city's place, there rest from toil is stored.

       Nor shudder at the coming curse, the gnawing of the board,

       The Fates shall find a way thereto; Apollo called shall come.

       But flee these lands of Italy, this shore so near our home,

       That washing of the strand thereof our very sea-tide seeks;

       For in all cities thereabout abide the evil Greeks.

       There now have come the Locrian folk Narycian walls to build;

       And Lyctian Idomeneus Sallentine meads hath filled400

       With war-folk; Philoctetes there holdeth Petelia small,

       Now by that Melibœan duke fenced round with mighty wall.

       Moreover, when your ships have crossed the sea, and there do stay,

       And on the altars raised thereto your vows ashore ye pay,

       Be veiled of head, and wrap thyself in cloth of purple dye,

       Lest 'twixt you and the holy fires ye light to God on high

       Some face of foeman should thrust in the holy signs to spill.

       Now let thy folk, yea and thyself, this worship thus fulfil,

       And let thy righteous sons of sons such fashion ever mind.

       But when, gone forth, to Sicily thou comest on the wind,410

       And when Pelorus' narrow sea is widening all away,

       Your course for leftward lying land and leftward waters lay,

       How long soe'er ye reach about: flee right-hand shore and wave.

       In time agone some mighty thing this place to wrack down drave,

       So much for changing of the world doth lapse of time avail.

      It split atwain, when heretofore the two lands, saith the tale,

       Had been but one, the sea rushed in and clave with mighty flood

       Hesperia's side from Italy, and field and city stood

       Drawn back on either shore, along a sundering sea-race strait.

       There Scylla on the right hand lurks, the left insatiate420

       Charybdis holds, who in her maw all whirling deep adown

       Sucketh the great flood tumbling in thrice daily, which out-thrown

       Thrice daily doth she spout on high, smiting the stars with brine.

       But Scylla doth the hidden hole of mirky cave confine;

       With face thrust forth she draweth ships on to that stony bed;

       Manlike above, with maiden breast and lovely fashioned

       Down to the midst, she hath below huge body of a whale,

       And unto maw of wolfish heads is knit a dolphin's tail.

       'Tis better far to win about Pachynus, outer ness

       Of Sicily, and reach long round, despite the weariness,430

       Than have that ugly sight of her within her awful den,

       And hear her coal-blue baying dogs and rocks that ring again.

      Now furthermore if Helenus in anything have skill,

       Or aught of trust, or if his soul with sooth Apollo fill,

       Of one thing, Goddess-born, will I forewarn thee over all,

       And spoken o'er and o'er again my word on thee shall fall:

       The mighty Juno's godhead first let many a prayer seek home;

       To Juno sing your vows in joy, with suppliant gifts o'ercome

       That Lady of all Might; and so, Trinacria overpast,

       Shalt thou be sped to Italy victorious at the last.440

       When there thou com'st and Cumæ's town amidst thy way hast found,

       The Holy Meres, Avernus' woods fruitful of many a sound,

       There the wild seer-maid shalt thou see, who in a rock-hewn cave

       Singeth of fate, and letteth leaves her names and tokens have:

       But whatso song upon those leaves the maiden seer hath writ

       She ordereth duly, and in den of live stone leaveth it:

       There lie the written leaves unmoved, nor shift their ordered rows.

       But when the hinge works round, and thence a light air on them blows,

       Then, when the door doth disarray among the frail leaves bear,

       To catch them fluttering in the cave she never hath a care,450

       Nor will she set them back again nor make the song-words meet;

       So folk unanswered go their ways and loathe the Sibyl's seat.

       But thou, count not the cost of time that there thou hast to spend;

       Although thy fellows blame thee sore, and length of way to wend

       Call on thy sails, and thou may'st fill their folds with happy gale,

       Draw nigh the seer, and strive with prayers to have her holy tale;

       Beseech her sing, and that her words from willing tongue go free:

       So reverenced shall she tell thee tale of folk of Italy

       And wars to come; and how to 'scape, and how to bear each ill,

       And with a happy end at last thy wandering shall fulfil.460

       Now is this all my tongue is moved to tell thee lawfully:

       Go, let thy deeds Troy's mightiness exalt above the sky!'

      So when the seer from loving mouth such words as this had said,

       Then gifts of heavy gold and gifts of carven tooth he bade

       Be borne a-shipboard; and our keels he therewithal doth stow

       With Dodonæan kettle-ware and silver great enow,

       A coat of hookèd woven mail and triple golden chain,

       A helm with noble towering crest crowned with a flowing mane,

       The arms of Pyrrhus: gifts most meet my father hath withal;

       And steeds he gives and guides he gives,470

       Fills up the tale of oars, and arms our fellows to their need.

       Anchises still was bidding us meanwhile to have a heed

       Of setting sail, nor with the wind all fair to make delay;

       To whom with words of worship now doth Phœbus' servant say:

       'Anchises, thou whom Venus' bed hath made so glorious,

       Care of the Gods, twice caught away from ruin of Pergamus,

       Lo, there the Ausonian land for thee, set sail upon the chase:

       Yet needs must thou upon the sea glide by its neighbouring face.

       Far off is that Ausonia yet that Phœbus open lays.

       Fare forth, made glad with pious son! why tread I longer ways480

       Of speech, and stay the rising South with words that I would tell?'

      And therewithal Andromache, sad with the last farewell,

       Brings for Ascanius raiment wrought with picturing wool of gold,

       And Phrygian coat; nor will she have our honour wax acold,

       But loads him with the woven gifts, and such word sayeth she:

       'Take these, fair boy; keep them to be my hands' last memory,

       The tokens of enduring love thy younger days did win

       From Hector's