Let gifts be to the mighty queen defign'd;
And mollify with prayers her haughty mind,
Thus, at the length, your paffage fhall be free,
And you fhall fafe defcend on Italy.
Arriv'd at Cumæ, when you view the flood
Of black Avernus, and the founding wood,
The mad prophetic fibyl you shall find,
Dark in a cave, and on a rock reclin'd.
She fings the fates, and, in her frantic fits,
The notes and names infcrib'd, to leaves commits.
What the commits to leaves, in order laid,
Before the cavern's entrance are difplay'd:
Unmov'd they lie: but if a blast of wind
Without, or vapours iffue from behind,
The leaves are borne aloft in liquid air,
And the refumes no more her mufeful care :
Nor gathers from the rocks her scatter'd verfe :
Nor fets in order what the winds difperfe.
Thus, many not fucceeding, most upbraid
The madness of the vifionary maid;
And, with loud curses, leave the mystic shade.
Think it not lofs of time a while to stay ;
Though thy companions chide thy long delay :
Though fummon'd to the feas, though pleafing gales
Invite thy courfe, and ftretch thy fwelling fails,
But beg the facred priestess to relate
With fwelling words, and not to write thy fate.
The fierce Italian people fhe will fhow;
And all thy wars and all thy future woe;
And what thou may'st avoid, and what muft undergo.
She fhall direct thy courfe; inftruct thy mind;
And teach thee how the happy fhores to find.
This is what heaven allows me to relate :
Now part in peace; pursue thy better fate,
And raife, by ftrength of arms, the Trojan ftate;
This when the priest with friendly voice declar'd,
He gave me license, and rich gifts prepar'd :
Bounteous of treafure, he fupply'd my want
With heavy gold, and polish'd elephant.
Then Dodonæan caldrons put on board,
And every fhip with fums of filver ftor'd.
A trusty coat of mail to me he sent,
Thrice chain'd with gold, for use and ornament:
The helm of Pyrrhus added to the rest,
Then flourish'd with a plume and waving creft.
Nor was my fire forgotten, nor my friends:
And large recruits he to my navy
Men, horfes, captains, arms, and warlike ftores:
Supplies new pilots, and new fweeping oars.
Mean time my fire commands to hoift our fails;
Left we should lose the first auspicious gales.
The prophet bleft the parting crew and last,
With words like thefe, his ancient friend embrac'd.
Old happy man, the care of gods above,
Whom heavenly Venus honour'd with her love,
And twice preferv'd thy life when Troy was loft,
Behold from far the wifh'd Aufonian coaft:
There land; but take a larger compafs round;
For that before is all forbidden ground.
The shore that Phoebus has defign'd for you,
At farther diftance lies, cónceal'd from view.
Go happy hence, and feek your new abodes ;
Blefs'd in a fon, and favour'd by the gods :
For I with useless words prolong your stay;
When fouthern gales have fummon'd you away.
Nor lefs the queen our parting thence deplor'd;
Nor was lefs bounteous than her Trojan lord.
A noble present to my fon fhe brought,
A robe with flowers on golden tiffue wrought;
A Phrygian veft; and loads, with gifts befide
Of precious texture, and of Afian pride.
Accept, fhe said, these monuments of love;
Which in my youth with happier hands I wove :
Regard thefe trifles for the giver's fake;
'Tis the last present Hector's wife can make.
Thou call'ft my lost Aftyanax to mind :
In thee his features and his form I find.
His eyes fo fparkled with a lively flame;
Such were his motions, fuch was all his frame; 635
And, ah! had heaven fo pleas'd, his years had been
With tears I took my last adieu, and faid, Your fortune, happy fair, already made,
Leaves you no farther with my different state,
Avoiding one, incurs another fate.
To you a quiet feat the gods allow,
You have no fhores to fearch, no feas to plow,
Nor fields of flying Italy to chace :
(Deluding vifions, and a vain embrace!)
You fee another Simois, and enjoy
The labour of your hands, another Troy ;
With better aufpice than her ancient towers,
And lefs obnoxious to the Grecian powers.
If e'er the gods, whom I with vows adore,
Conduct my steps to Tiber's happy shore :
If ever I afcend the Latian throne,
And build a city I may call my own,
As both of us our birth from Troy derive,
So let our kindred lines in concord live;
And both in acts of equal friendship strive.
Our fortunes, good or bad, fhall be the fame,
The double Troy shall differ but in name:
That what we now begin, may never end;
But long, to late pofterity defcend.
Near the Ceraunian rocks our courfe we bore
(The fhorteft paffage to th' Italian fhore).
Now had the fun withdrawn his radiant light,
And hills were hid in dusky fhades of night,
We land and, on the bofom of the ground,
A safe retreat and a bare lodging found;
Close by the fhore we lay; the failors keep
Their watches, and the reft fecurely fleep.
The night, proceeding on with filent pace,
Stood in her noon, and view'd with equal face
Her fteepy rife, and her declining race.
Then wakeful Palinurus rofe, to spy
The face of heaven, and the nocturnal sky;
And liften'd every breath of air to try;
Obferves the stars, and notes their fliding course,
The Pleiads, Hyads, and their watery force;
And both the bears is careful to behold;
And bright Orion arm'd with burnish'd gold.
Then, when he faw no threatening tempeft nigh,
But a fure promise of a settled sky;
He gave the fign to weigh: we break our fleep; 680
Forfake the pleafing fhore, and plow the deep.
And now the rifing morn, with rofy light,
Adorns the fkies, and puts the ftars to flight:
When we from far, like bluish mifts, defcry
The hills, and then the plains of Italy.
Achates first pronounc'd the joyful found;
Then Italy the chearful crew rebound;
My fire Anchifes crown'd a cup with wine,
And offering, thus implor'd the powers divine:
Ye gods, prefiding over lands and feas,
And you who raging winds and waves appease,
Breathe on our fwelling fails a profperous wind,
And smooth our paffage to the port affign'd.
The gentle gales their flagging force renew;
And now the happy harbour is in view.
Minerva's temple then falutes our fight;
Plac'd as a land-mark, on the mountain's height;
We furl our fails, and turn the prows to fhore;
The curling waters round the galleys roar ;
The land lies open to the raging east,
Then, bending like a bow, with rocks comprefs'd,
Shuts out the ftorms; the winds and waves complain,
And vent their malice on the cliffs in vain.
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