Afric and India shall his power obey,
He shall extend his propagated sway
Beyond the solar year, without the starry way,
Where Atlas turns the rolling heavens around,
And his broad shoulders with their lights are crowned;
At his foreseen approach already quake
The Caspian kingdoms and Maotian lake;
Their seers behold the tempest from afar,
And threatening oracles denounce the war;
Nile hears him knocking at his sevenfold gates,
And seeks his hidden spring, and fears his nephew Fates;
Nor Hercules more lands or labours knew,
Not though the braz: n-footed hind he slew,
~Freed Erymanthus from the foaming boar,
And dip, ed his arrows in Lernaan gore:
Nor Bacchus, turning from his Indian war,
By tigers drawn triumphant in his car,
From Nisus' top descending on the plains,
With curling vines around his purple reins.
And doubt we yet through dangers to pursue
The paths of honour and a crown in view?
But what's the man who from afar appears,
His head with olive crowned, his hand a censer bears?
His hoary beard and holy vestments bring
His lost idea back- I know the Roman king;
He shall to peaceful Rome new laws ordain,
Called from his mean abode a sceptre to sustain.
Him Tullus next in dignity succeeds,
An active prince, and prone to martial deeds;
He shall his troops for fighting fields prepare,
Disused to toils and triumphs of the war;
By dint of sword his crown he shall increase,
And scour his armour from the rust of peace;
Whom Ancus follows with a fawning air,
But vain within and proudly popular.
Next view the Tarquin kings; the avenging sword
Of Brutus, justly drawn, and Rome restored.
He first renews the rods and axe severe,
And gives the consuls royal robes to wear;
His sons, who seek the tyrant to sustain,
And long for arbitrary lords again,
With ignominy scourged, in open sight,
He dooms to death deserved, asserting public light.
Unhappy man, to break the pious laws
Of nature pleading in his children's cause:
Howe'er the doubtful fact is understood,
'Tis love of honour and his country's good,
The consul, not the father, sheds the blood.
Behold Torquatus the same track pursue;
And next the two devoted Decii view;
The Drusian line, Camillus loaded home
With standards well redeemed, and foreign foes o'ercome. The pair you see in equal armour shine
(Now friends below in close embraces join;
But when they leave the shady realms of night,
And, clothed in bodies, breathe your upper light)
With mortal heat each other shall pursue;
What wars, what wounds, what slaughter shall ensue!
From Alpine heights the father first descends,
His daughter's husband in the plain attends;
His daughter's husband arms his castern friends;
'Embrace again, my sons, be foes no more,
Nor stain your country with her children's gre;
And thou, the first, lay down thy lawless claim,
Thou of my blood who bear'st the Julian name?'
Another comes who shall in triumph ride,
And to the capitol his chariot guide,
From conquered Corinth, rich with Grecian spoils;
And yet another, famed for warlike toils,
On Argos shall impose the Roman laws,
And on the Greeks revenge th⚫ Trojan cause;
Shall drag in chains their Achillaan race,
Shall vindicate his ancestors' disgrace,
And Pallas for her violated place.
Great Cato there, for gravity renowned,
And conquering Cossus goes with laurels crowned.
Who can omit the Gracchi, who declare
The Scipio's worth, those thunderbolts of war,
The double bane of Carthage? Who can see,
Without esteem for virtuous poverty,
Severe Fabricius, or can cease to admire
The ploughman consul in his coarse attire?
Tired as I am, my praise the Fabii claim;
And thou, great hero, greatest of thy name,
Ordained in war to save the sinking state,
And by delays to put a stop to fate!
Let others better mould the running mass
Of metals, and inform the breathing brass,
And soften into flesh a marble face;
Plead better at the bar; describe the skies.
And when the stars descend, and when they rise.
But Rome, 'tis thine alone, with awful sway,
To rule mankind and make the world obey,
Disposing peace and war thy own majestic way.
To tame the proud, the fettered slave to free-
These are imperial arts, and worthy thee."
He paused; and while with wondering eyes they viewed The passing spirits, thus his speech renewed.
"See great Marcellus, how, untired in toils,
He moves with manly grace, how rich with regal spoils;
He, when his country (threatened with alarms)
Requires his courage and his conquering arms,
Shall more than once the Punic bands affright,
Shall kill the Gaulish king in single fight;
Then to the Capitol in triumph move,
And the third spoils shall grace Feretrian Jove."
Eneas here behield of form divine
A god-like youth in glittering armour shine?
With great Marcellus keeping equal pace;
But gloomy were his eyes, dejected was his face;
He saw, and, wondering, asked his airy guide,
What, and of whence was he, who pressed the hero's side?
His son, or one of his illustrious name?
How like the former, and almost the same.
Observe the crowds that compass him around —
All gaze, and all admire and raise a shouting sound;
But hovering mists around his brows are spread,
And night with sable shades involves his head.
"Seek not to know," the ghost replied with tears
"The sorrows of thy sons in future years.
This youth (the blissful vision of a day)
Shall just be shown on earth, then snatched away
The gods too high had raised the Roman State-
Were but their gifts as permanent as great.
What groans of men shall fill the Martian field!
How fierce a blaze his flaming pile shall yield!
What funeral pomp shall floating Tiber see,
When rising from his bed he views the sad solemnity!
No youth shall equal hopes of glory give,
No youth afford so great a cause to grieve;
The Trojan honour and the Roman boast,
Admired when living and adored when lost;
Mirror of ancient faith in carly youth;
Undaunted worth, inviolable truth,
No foc unpunished in the fighting field
Shall dare thee foot to foot with sword and shield,
Much less in arms oppose thy matchless force
When thy sharp spurs shall urge thy foaming horse. Ah, couldst thou break through Fate's severe decree, A new Marcellus shall arise in thee!
Full canisters of fragrant lilies bring,
Mixed with the purple roses of the spring:
Let me with funeral flowers his body strew,
This gift which parents to their children owe,
This unavailing gift at least I may bestow."
Thus having said, he led the hero round
The confines of the blessed Elysian ground;
Which, when Anchises to his son had shown,
And fired his mind to mount the promised throne,
He tells the future wars ordained by fate,
The strength and customs of the Latian state,
The prince and people; and forearms his care
With rules, to push his fortune, or to bear.
Two gates the silent House of Sleep adorn-
Of polished ivory this, that of transparent horn.
True visions through transparent horn arise,
Through polished ivory pass deluding lies.
Of various things discoursing as he passed,
Anchises hither bends his steps at last.
Then through the gate of ivory he dismissed
His valiant offspring and divining guest.
Straight to the ships meas took his way,
Embarked his men, and skimmed along the sea,
Still coasting, till he gained Cajeta's bay.
At length on oozy ground his galleys moor,
Their heads are turned to sea, their sterns to shore.
King Latinus entertains neas, and promises him his only daughter Lavinia, the heiress of his crown. Turnus being in love with her, favoured by her mother, and stirred up by Juno and Electo. breaks the treaty which was made, and engages in his quarrel Mezentaus, Camilla, Messapus, and many other of the neighbouring princes, whose forces and the names of their commanders are particularly related.
AND thou, O matron of immortal fame!
Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name!
Cajeta still the place is called from thee,
The nurse of great Encas' infancy.
Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia's plains,
Thy name ('tis all a ghost can have) reinains.
Now, when the prince her funeral rites had paid,
He ploughed the Tyrrhene seas with sails displayed ;
From land a gentle breeze arose by night,
Serenely shone the stars, the moon was bright,
And the sea trembled with her silver light.
Now near the shelves of Circe's shores they run
(Circe the rich, the daughter of the sun),
A dangerous coast. The goddess wastes her days
In joyous songs, the rocks resound her lays;
In spinning or the loom she spends the night,
And cedar brands supply her father's light,
From hence were heard (rebellowing to the main)
The roars of lions that refuse the chain,
The grunts of bristled boars and groans of bears,
And herds of howling wolves that stun the sailors' cars.
These from their caverns, at the close of night,
Fill the sad isle with horror and affright.
Darkling they mourn their fate whom Circe's power
(That watched the moon and planetary hour)
With words and wicked herbs from human kind
Had altered, and in brutal shapes confined;
Which monsters, lest the Trojans' pious host
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