Virgil

The Æneids of Virgil, Done into English Verse


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of race of yours hath hold upon your minds,

       That earth and sea ye turmoil so without my will, O winds;

       That such upheaval and so great ye dare without my will?

       Whom I—But first it comes to hand the troubled flood to still:

       For such-like fault henceforward though with nought so light ye pay.

       Go get you gone, and look to it this to your king to say:

       That ocean's realm and three-tined spear of dread are given by Fate

       Not unto him but unto me? he holds the cliffs o'ergreat,

       Thine houses, Eurus; in that hall I bid him then be bold,140

       Thine Æolus, and lord it o'er his winds in barred hold."

      So saying and swifter than his word he layed the troubled main,

       And put to flight the gathered clouds, and brought the sun again;

       And with him Triton fell to work, and fair Cymothoë,

       And thrust the ships from spiky rocks; with triple spear wrought he

       To lift, and opened swallowing sands, and laid the waves alow.

       Then on light wheels o'er ocean's face soft gliding did he go.

       And, like as mid a people great full often will arise

       Huge riot, and all the low-born herd to utter anger flies,

       And sticks and stones are in the air, and fury arms doth find:150

       Then, setting eyes perchance on one of weight for noble mind,

       And noble deeds, they hush them then and stand with pricked-up ears,

       And he with words becomes their lord, and smooth their anger wears;

       —In such wise fell all clash of sea when that sea-father rose,

       And looked abroad: who turned his steeds, and giving rein to those,

       Flew forth in happy-gliding car through heaven's all-open way.

      Æneas' sore forewearied host the shores that nearest lay

       Stretch out for o'er the sea, and turn to Libyan land this while.

       There goes a long firth of the sea, made haven by an isle,159

       Against whose sides thrust out abroad each wave the main doth send

       Is broken, and must cleave itself through hollow bights to wend:

       Huge rocks on this hand and on that, twin horns of cliff, cast dread

       On very heaven; and far and wide beneath each mighty head

       Hushed are the harmless waters; lo, the flickering wood above

       And wavering shadow cast adown by darksome hanging grove:

       In face hereof a cave there is of rocks o'erhung, made meet

       With benches of the living stone and springs of water sweet,

       The house of Nymphs: a-riding there may way-worn ships be bold

       To lie without the hawser's strain or anchor's hookèd hold.

      That bight with seven of all his tale of ships Æneas gained,170

       And there, by mighty love of land the Trojans sore constrained,

       Leap off-board straight, and gain the gift of that so longed-for sand,

       And lay their limbs with salt sea fouled adown upon the strand:

       And first Achates smote alive the spark from out the flint,

       And caught the fire in tinder-leaves, and never gift did stint

       Of feeding dry; and flame enow in kindled stuff he woke;

       Then Ceres' body spoilt with sea, and Ceres' arms they took,

       And sped the matter spent with toil, and fruit of furrows found

       They set about to parch with fire and 'twixt of stones to pound.

      Meanwhile Æneas scaled the cliff and far and wide he swept180

       The main, if anywhere perchance the sea his Antheus kept,

       Tossed by the wind, if he might see the twi-banked Phrygians row;

       If Capys, or Caïcus' arms on lofty deck might show.

       Nor any ship there was in sight, but on the strand he saw

       Three stags a-wandering at their will, and after them they draw

       The whole herd following down the dales long strung out as they feed:

       So still he stood, and caught in hand his bow and shafts of speed,

       The weapons that Achates staunch was bearing then and oft;

       And first the very lords of those, that bore their heads aloft

       With branching horns, he felled, and then the common sort, and so190

       Their army drave he with his darts through leafy woods to go:

       Nor held his hand till on the earth were seven great bodies strown,

       And each of all his ships might have one head of deer her own.

       Thence to the haven gat he gone with all his folk to share,

       And that good wine which erst the casks Acestes made to bear,

       And gave them as they went away on that Trinacrian beach,

       He shared about; then fell to soothe their grieving hearts with speech:

      "O fellows, we are used ere now by evil ways to wend;

       O ye who erst bore heavier loads, this too the Gods shall end.

       Ye, ye have drawn nigh Scylla's rage and rocks that inly roar,200

       And run the risk of storm of stones upon the Cyclops' shore:

       Come, call aback your ancient hearts and put your fears away!

       This too shall be for joy to you remembered on a day.

       Through diverse haps, through many risks wherewith our way is strown,

       We get us on to Latium, the land the Fates have shown

       To be for peaceful seats for us: there may we raise up Troy.

       Abide, endure, and keep yourselves for coming days of joy."

      So spake his voice: but his sick heart did mighty trouble rack,

       As, glad of countenance, he thrust the heavy anguish back.

       But they fall to upon the prey, and feast that was to dight,210

       And flay the hide from off the ribs, and bare the flesh to sight.

       Some cut it quivering into steaks which on the spits they run,

       Some feed the fire upon the shore, and set the brass thereon.

       And so meat bringeth might again, and on the grass thereby,

       Fulfilled with fat of forest deer and ancient wine, they lie.

       But when all hunger was appeased and tables set aside,

       Of missing fellows how they fared the talk did long abide;

       Whom, weighing hope and weighing fear, either alive they trow,

       Or that the last and worst has come, that called they hear not now.

       And chief of all the pious King Æneas moaned the pass220

       Of brisk Orontes, Amycus, and cruel fate that was

       Of Lycus, and of Bias strong, and strong Cloanthus gone.

      But now an end of all there was, when Jove a-looking down

       From highest lift on sail-skimmed sea, and lands that round it lie,

       And shores and many folk about, in topmost burg of sky

       Stood still, and fixed the eyes of God on Libya's realm at last: