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At length, in dead of night, the ghost appears
Of her unhappy lord: the spectre stares,
And, with erected eyes, his bloody bosom bares.
The cruel altars, and his fate he tells,
And the dire secret of his house reveals:
Then warns the widow, and her household gods,
To seek a refuge in remote abodes.

Last, to support her in so long a way,

He shows her where his hidden treasure lay.
Admonish'd thus, and seized with mortal fright,
The queen provides companions of her flight:
They meet, and all combine to leave the state,
Who hate the tyrant, or who fear his hate.
They seize a fleet, which ready rigg'd they find;
Nor is Pygmalion's treasure left behind.
The vessels, heavy laden, put to sea

With prosperous winds: a woman leads the way.
I know not, if by stress of weather driven,
Or was their fatal course disposed by Heaven:
At last they landed, where from far your eyes
May view the turrets of new Carthage rise;
There bought a space of ground, which (Byrsa

From the bull's hide)they first enclosed,and wall'd. But whence are you? what country claims your birth?

What seek you, strangers, on this Libyan earth?'


To whom, with sorrow streaming from his
And deeply sighing thus her son replies--
Could you with patience hear, or I relate,
O nymph! the tedious annals of our fate,
Through such a train of woes if I should run,
The day would sooner than the tale be done.

From ancient Troy, by force expell'd, we came—
If you by chance have heard the Trojan name.
On various seas by various tempests toss'd,
At length we landed on your Libyan coast.
The good Æneas am I call'd-a name,
While Fortune favour'd, not unknown to fame.
My household gods, companions of my woes,
With pious care I rescued from our foes.
To fruitful Italy my course was bent;
And from the king of heaven is my descent.
With twice ten sail I cross'd the Phrygian sea;
Fate and my mother goddess led my way.
Scarce seven, the thin remainders of my fleet,
From storms preserved, within your harbour meet.
Myself distress'd, an exile, and unknown,
Debarr'd from Europe, and from Asia thrown,
In Libyan deserts wander thus alone.'

His tender parent could no longer bear,
But, interposing, sought to sooth his care:
'Whoe'er you are-not unbeloved by Heaven,
Since on our friendly shore your ships are driven―
Have courage: to the gods permit the rest,
And to the queen expose your just request.
Now take this earnest of success for more:
Your scatter'd fleet is join'd upon the shore;
The winds are changed, your friends from danger
Or I renounce my skill in augury. [free:
Twelve swans behold in beauteous order move,
And stoop, with closing pinions from above;
Whom late the bird of Jove had driven along,
And through the clouds pursued the scattering
Now, all united in a goodly team,

[throng; They skim the ground, and seek the quiet stream.

As they, with joy returning, clap their wings,
And ride the circuit of the skies in rings;
Not otherwise your ships, and every friend,
Already hold the port, or with swift sails descend.
No more advice is needful; but pursue
The path before you, and the town in view.'

Thus having said, she turn'd, and made appear
Her neck refulgent, and dishevel'd hair,
Which, flowing from her shoulders, reach'd the

And widely spread ambrosial scents around.
In length of train descends her sweeping gown:
And, by her graceful walk, the queen of love is

The prince pursued the parting deity

With words like these-Ah! whither do you fly?
Unkind and cruel! to deceive your son
In borrow'd shapes, and his embrace to shun;
Never to bless my sight, but thus unknown;
And still to speak in accents not your own.'
Against the goddess these complaints he made,
But took the path, and her commands obey'd.
They march obscure: for Venus kindly shrouds
With mists their persons, and involves in clouds,
That, thus unseen, their passage none might stay,
Or force to tell the causes of their way.
This part perform'd, the goddess flies sublime,
To visit Paphos, and her native clime,
Where garlands ever green and ever fair,
With vows are offer'd, and with solemn prayer:
A hundred altars in her temple smoke:
A thousand bleeding hearts her power invoke.

They climb the next ascent, and, looking down, Now at a nearer distance view the town.


The prince with wonder sees the stately towers (Which late were huts, and shepherds' homely bowers),

The gates and streets; and hears, from every part,
The noise and busy concourse of the mart.
The toiling Tyrians on each other call,
To ply their labour: some extend the wall;
Some build the citadel; the brawny throng
Or dig, or push unwieldy stones along.

Some for their dwellings choose a spot of ground,
Which, first design'd, with ditches they surround.
Some laws ordain; and some attend the choice
Of holy senates, and elect by voice.
Here some design a mole, while others there
Lay deep foundations for a theatre;

From marble quarries mighty columns hew,
For ornaments of scenes, and future view.
Such is their toil, and such their busy pains,
As exercise the bees in flowery plains,
When winter pass'd, and summer scarce begun,
Invites them forth to labour in the sun:

Some lead their youth abroad, while some condense
Their liquid store, and some in cells dispense:
Some at the gate stand ready to receive
The golden burden, and their friends relieve:
All, with united force, combine to drive
The lazy drones from the laborious hive:
With envy stung, they view each other's deeds;
The fragrant work with diligence proceeds.
Thrice happy you, whose walls already rise!'
Eneas said, and view'd, with lifted eyes,
Their lofty towers: then entering at the gate,
Conceal'd in clouds (prodigious to relate),
He mix'd, unmark'd, among the busy throng,
Borne by the tide, and pass'd unseen along.

Full in the centre of the town there stood,
Thick set with trees, a venerable wood:
The Tyrians landing near this holy ground,
And digging here, a prosperous omen found:
From under earth a courser's head they drew,
Their growth and future fortune to foreshow:
This fated sign their foundress Juno gave,
Of a soil fruitful, and a people brave.
Sidonian Dido here with solemn state
Did Juno's temple build, and consecrate,
Enrich'd with gifts, and with a golden shrine;
But more the goddess made the place divine.
On brazen steps the marble threshold rose,
And brazen plates the cedar beams enclose:
The rafters are with brazen coverings crown'd;
The lofty doors on brazen hinges sound.
What first Æneas in this place beheld,
Revived his courage, and his fear expell'd.
For-while, expecting there the queen, he raised
His wondering eyes, and round the temple gazed,
Admired the fortune of the rising town,
The striving artists, and their arts' renown—
He saw in order painted on the wall,
Whatever did unhappy Troy befall-

The wars that fame around the world had blown,
All to the life, and every leader known.
There Agamemnon, Priam here, he spies,
And fierce Achilles, who both kings defies.
He stopp'd, and weeping said—' O friend! e'en
The monuments of Trojan woes appear! [here
Our known disasters fill e'en foreign lands;
See there, where old unhappy Priam stands!
E'en the mute walls relate the warrior's fame,
And Trojan griefs the Tyrians' pity claim.'

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