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In mournful
pomp the matrons walk the round: 90
With baleful cypress and blue fillets crown'd;
With eyes dejected, and with hair unbound.
Then bowls of tepid milk and blood we pour,
And thrice invoke the foul of Polydore.

Now when the raging storms no longer reign;
But fouthern gales invite us to the main;
We launch our veffels, with a profperous wind;
And leave the cities and the fhores behind.

An island in th' Ægean main appears;
Neptune and watery Doris claim it theirs.
It floated once, till Phoebus fix'd the fides
To rooted earth, and now it braves the tides.
Here, borne by friendly winds, we come afhore,
With needful ease our weary limbs restore:
And the fun's temple and his town adore.




Anius the priest, and king, with laurel crown'd,

His hoary locks with purple fillets bound,
Who faw my fire the Delian fhore afcend,
Came forth with eager hafte to meet his friend :
Invites him to his palace: and in fign

Of ancient love, their plighted hands they join.
Then to the temple of the god I went;
And thus before the fhrine my vows prefent:
Give, O Thymbræus, give a resting-place
To the fad relicks of the Trojan race:



A feat fecure, a region of their own,

A lafting empire, and a happier town.

Where shall we fix, where fhall our labours end,
Whom shall we follow, and what fate attend?

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Let not my prayers a doubtful answer find,
But in clear auguries unveil thy mind.
Scarce had I faid; he shook the holy ground;
The laurels, and the lofty hills around:
And from the tripos rush'd a bellowing found.
Proftrate we fell, confefs'd the prefent god;.
Who gave this answer from his dark abode :
Undaunted youths, go feek that mother earth.
From which your ancestors derive their birth,
The foil that fent you forth, her ancient race,
In her old bofom, fhall again embrace.




Through the wide world th' Æneian house shall reign,
And childrens children fhall the crown fuftain.
Thus Phoebus did our future fates difclofe:.

A mighty tumult, mix'd with joy, arofe.

All are concern'd to know what place the god: 135Affign'd, and where determin'd our abode.. My father, long revolving in his mind

The race and lineage of the Trojan kind,

Thus anfwer'd their demands: Ye princes, hear
Your pleafing fortune; and difpel your fear.
The fruitful ifle of Crete, well known to fame,
Sacred of old to Jove's imperial name,
In the mid ocean lies with large command;
And on its plains a hundred cities ftand..


Another Ida rifes there; and we


From thence derive our Trojan ancestry.

From thence, as 'tis divulg'd by certain fame,
To the Rhætean fhores old Teucer came:


There fix'd, and there the feat of empire chofe,
Ere Ilium and the Trojan towers arofe.

In humble vales they built their foft abodes:
Till Cybele, the mother of the gods,

With tinkling cymbals, charm'd th' Idean woods.
She fecret rites and ceremonies taught,
And to the yoke the favage lions brought:
Let us the land, which heaven appoints, explore;
Appease the winds, and feek the Gnoffian fhore.
If Jove affift the paffage of our fleet,
The third propitious dawn difcovers Crete.
Thus having faid, the facrifices laid
On fmoaking altars, to the gods he paid.
A bull to Neptune, an oblation due,
Another bull to bright Apollo flew :

A milk-white ewe the western winds to please :
And one coal black to calm the stormy seas.
Ere this, a flying rumour Irad been spread,
That fierce Idomeneus from Crete was fled;
Expell'd and exil'd; that the coaft was free
From foreign or domestic enemy:





We leave the Delian ports, and put to fea.


By Naxos, fam'd for vintage, make our way :
Then green Donyfa pass; and fail in fight-
Of Paros ifle, with marble quarries white.
We pass the fcatter'd ifles of Cyclades,

That, fcarce diftinguifh'd, feem to ftud the feas. 175
The fhouts of failors double near the fhores;

They stretch their canvas, and they ply their oars.

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All hands aloft, for Crete, for Crete they cry,
And swiftly through the foamy billows fly.
Full on the promis'd land at length we bore,
With joy defcending on the Cretan fhore.
With eager
haste a rising town I frame,
Which from the Trojan Pergamus I name:
The name itself was grateful; I exhort
To found their houses, and erect a fort.

Our fhips are haul'd upon the yellow strand.
The youth begin to till the labour'd land.
And I myself new marriages promote,
Give laws; and dwellings I divide by lot.
When rifing vapours choke the wholesom air,
And blafts of noifom winds corrupt the year:
The trees, devouring caterpillars burn :
Parch'd was the grafs, and blighted was the corn.
Nor fcape the beafts: for Sirius from on high
With peftilential heat infects the sky:
My men, fome fall, the rest in fevers fry.
Again my father bids me feek the shore
Of facred Delos and the god implore :
To learn what end of woes we might expect,
And to what clime our weary courfe direct.







'Twas night, when every creature, void of cares,

The common gift of balmy flumber shares:
The ftatues of my gods (for such they feem'd),
Thofe gods whom I from flaming Troy redeem'd,
Before me ftood; majeftically bright,

Full in the beams of Phoebe's entering light.



Then thus they spoke; and eas'd my troubled mind : What from the Delian god thou go'st to find,


He tells thee here; and fends us to relate :
Thofe powers are we, companions of thy fate,
Who from the burning town by thee were brought;
Thy fortune follow'd, and thy fafety wrought.
Through feas and lands as we thy fteps attend,
So fhall our care thy glorious race befriend.
An ample realm for thee thy fates ordain ;

A town, that o'er the conquer'd world shall reign.
Thou mighty walls for mighty nations build;
Nor let thy weary mind to labours yield :
But change thy feat; for not the Delian god,
Nor we, have giv'n thee Crete for our abode.
A land there is, Hefperia call'd of old,
The foil is fruitful, and the natives bold.
Th' Oenotrians held it once; by later fame,
Now call'd Italia from the leader's name.
Jafius there, and Dardanus were born :
From thence we came, and thither must return.




Rife, and thy fire with thefe glad tidings greet;
Search Italy, for Jove denies thee Crete.

Aftonish'd at their voices, and their fight, (Nor were they dreams, but vifions of the night; 230 I faw, I knew their faces, and defcry'd

In perfect view their hair with fillets ty'd);
I started from my couch, and clammy fweat
On all my limbs and fhivering body fate.
To heaven I lift my hands with pious haste,
And facred incenfe in the flames I caft.



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