Por here his beams indulgent Phœbus sheds, And rolls his flaming chariot o'er our heads. Seek you, my friends, the blest Saturnian plains, Or fair Trinacria, where Acestes reigns ? With aids supply'd, and furnish'd from my stores, Safe will I send you from the Libyan shores. Or would you stay to raise this growing town? Fix here your seat; and Carthage is your own. Haste, draw your ships to shore; to me the same, Your Troy and Tyre shall differ but in name. And oh! that great Æneas had been tost, By the same storm, on the same friendly coast! But I will send, my borders to explore, And trace the windings of the mazy shore. Perchance, already thrown on these abodes, He roams the towns, or wanders thro' the woods." Rais'd in their hopes the friend and hero stood; And long'd to break, transported, from the cloud. "Oh! goddess-born!" cry'd brave Achates, "say, What are your thoughts, and why this long delay? All safe you see; your friends and fleet restor'd; One (whom we saw) the whirling gulf devour'd. Lo! with the rest your mother's words agree, All but Orontes 'scap'd the raging sea."

Swift as he spoke, the vapours break away, Dissolve in ether, and refine to day. Radiant, in open view, Æneas stood, In form and looks, majestic as a god. Flush'd with the bloom of youth, his features shine, His hair in ringlets waves with grace divine. The queen of love the glance divine supplies,

And breathes immortal spirit in his eyes.

Like Parian marble beauteous to behold,

Or silver's milder gleam in burnish'd gold,

Or polish'd iv'ry, shone the godlike man:
All stood surpris'd; and thus the prince began :

Æneas, whom you seek, you here survey;

Escap'd the tempest of the Libyan sea,
O Dido, gracious queen, who make alone
The woes, and cause, of wretched Troy your own;
And shelter in your walls, with pious care,
Her sons, the relics of the Grecian war;
Who all the forms of misery have bore,
Storms on the sea, and dangers on the shore;
Nor we, nor all the Dardan nation, hurl'd
Wide o'er the globe, and scatter'd round the world,
But the good gods, with blessings, shall repay
Your bounteous deeds, the gods and only they;
(If pious acts, if justice they regard;)
And your clear conscience stands its own reward.
How blest this age, that has such virtue seen!
How blest the parents of so great a queen!
While to the sea the rivers roll, and shades
With awful pomp surround the mountain heads;
While ether shines, with golden planets grac'd,
So long your honour, name, and praise, shall last :
Whatever realm my fortune has assign'd,
Still will I bear your image in my mind."

This said, the pious chief of Troy extends
His hands around, and hails his joyful friends:
His left Sergestus grasp'd with vast delight,
To great Ilioneus he gave the right.
Cloanthus, Gyas, and the Dardan train,
All, in their turns, embrac'd the prince again.

Charm'd with his presence, Dido gaz'd him o'er,
Admir'd his fortune much, his person more.
"What fate, O goddess-born," she said, "has tost
So brave a hero on this barbarous coast?
Are you Æneas, who in Ida's grove

Sprung from Anchises and the queen of love

By Simois' streams? and now I call to mind,
When Teucer left his native shores behind;
The banish'd prince to Sidon came, to gain
Great Belus' aid, to fix him in his reign;
Then the rich Cyprian isle, my warlike sire
Subdu'd, and ravag'd wide with sword and fire.
From him I learnt the Grecian kings of fame,
The fall of Ilion, and your glorious name:
He on your valour, though a foe, with joy
Would dwell, and proudly trace his birth from

Troy.

Come to my palace then, my royal guest,
And, with your friends, indulge the genial feast.
My wand'rings and my fate resembling yours,
At length I settled on these Libyan shores;
And, touch'd with miseries myself have known,
I view, with pity, woes so like my own."

She spoke, then leads him to her proud abodes,

Ordains a feast, and offerings to the gods.
Twice fifty bleating lambs and ewes she sends,
And twice ten brawny oxen to his friends :
A hundred bristly boars, and monstrous swine;
With Bacchus' gifts, a store of generous wine.
The inner rooms in regal pomp disp'ay'd,
The splendid feasts in ample halls are made;
Where, labour'd o'er with art, rich carpets lie,
That glow refulgent with the purple dye.

The boards are pil'd with plate of curious mould;
And their forefathers' deeds, in times of old,
Blaz'd round the bowls, and charg'd the rising gold.

No more the prince his eager love suppress'd,

All the fond parent struggled in his breast.
He sends Achates to inform his son,
And guide the young Ascanius to the town;
(On his Ascanius turn his fear and joy,
The father's cares are center'd in the boy);
To bring rich presents to the queen of Tyre,
And relics, rescu'd from the Trojan fire.
A mantle wrought with saffron foliage round;
And a stiff robe with golden figures crown'd;
Fair Helen's dress, when, fir'd with lawless joy,
She left her native walls to ruin Troy,
(Her mother's present in the bridal hour);
With gold a shining sceptre studded o'er,
That wont Ilione's fair hand to grace,

The eldest nymph of Priam's beauteous race;
Her necklace, strung with pearls; her crown, that

glows

Instarr'd with gems and gold in double rows.
To bring the splendid gifts without delay,
Swift to the fleet, Achates bends his way.

But beauteous Venus in her breast design'd
New wiles, and plann'd new counsels in her mind,
That winged Cupid to the court should come
Like sweet Ascanius, in Ascanius' room;
With the rich gifts the Tyrian queen inspire,
And kindle in her veins the raging fire.
Her dread of Juno's arts, who guards the place,
Her just suspicions of the treach'rous race,
Break, each revolving night, her golden rest;
And thus the suppliant queen the god address'd:

"Oh son! my strength! supreme in Heav'n

above!

Whose arrows triumph o'er the bolts of Jove:
To thee I fly, thy succour to implore,
Court thy protection, and thy pow'r adore.
To tell how Juno's restless rage has tost
Your brother round the seas, and ev'ry coast,
Is but to mention what too well you know, know.
Who sigh'd my sighs, and wept a mother's woe.

Him, in her own town, the Tyrian quen detains,
With soft seducements, from the Latian plains,
But much I fear that hospitable place,
Where Juno reigns the guardian of the race:
And lest this fair occasion she improve,
Know, I design to fire the queen with love;
A love, beyond the cure of pow'rs divine;
A love as strong, and violent as mine.
But how the proud Phœnician to surprise
With such a passion, hear what I advise.
The royal youth, Ascanius, from the port,
Hastes, by his father's summons, to the court;
With costly presents charg'd he takes his way,
Sav'd from the Trojan flames, and stormy sea;
But to prevent suspicion, will I steep
His temples in the dews of balmy sleep,
Then to Cythera's sacred seats remove,
Or softly lay him in th' Idalian grove.
This one revolving night, thyself a boy,
Wear thou the features of the youth of Troy;
And when the queen, transported with thy charms,
Amidst the feast, shall strain thee in her arms,
The gentle poison by degrees inspire
Through all her breast; then fan the rising fire,
And kindle all her soul" The mother said,
With joy the god her soft commands obey'd.
Aside his quiver, and his wings he flung,
And, like the boy Iülus, tript along."

Meantime the goddess on Ascanius throws
A balmy slumber and a sweet repose;
Lull'd in her lap to rest, the queen of love
Convey'd him to the high Idalian grove.
There on a flow'ry bed her charge she laid,
And, breathing round him, rose the fragrant shade.

Now Cupid, pleas'd his orders to obey,
Brought the rich gifts; Achates led the way.
He came, and found on costly carpets spread
The queen majestic, midst her golden bed.
The great Æneas and the Trojans lie

On pompous couches stain'd with Tyrian dye:
Soft towels for their hands th' attendants bring,
And limpid water from the crystal spring.
They wash; the menial train the tables spread;
And heap in glitt'ring canisters the bread.
To dress the feast, full fifty handunaids join,
And burn rich incense to the pow'rs divine;
A hundred boys and virgins stood around,
The banquet marshall'd, and the goblet crown'd.
To fill th' embroider'd beds the Tyrians come
Rank behind rank; and crowd the regal room.
The guests the gorgeous gifts and boy admire,
His voice, and looks, that glow with youthful
fire;

The veil and foliage wond'ring they behold,
And the rich robe that flam'd with figur'd gold:
But chief the queen, the boy and presents move,
The queen, already doom'd to fatal love.
Insatiate in her joy, she sat amaz'd,
Gaz'd on his face, and kindled as she gaz'd.
First, his dissembled father he caress'd,
Hung round his neck, and play'd upon his breast;
Next to the queen's embraces he withdrew;
She look'd, and sent her soul at ev'ry view:
Then took him on her lap, devour'd his charms;
Nor knew poor Dido, blind to future harms,
How great a god she fondled in her arms.
But he, now mindful of his mother, stole
By slow degrees Sichæus from her soul;
Her soul, rekindling, in her husband's stead,
Admits the prince; the living for the dead.

Soon as the banquet paus'd, to raise their souls With sparkling wine they crown the massy bowls. Through the wide hall the rolling echo bounds, The palace rings, the vaulted dome resounds. The blazing torches, and the lamps display, From golden roofs, an artificial day. Now Dido crowns the bowl of state with wine, The bowl of Belus, and the regal line. Her hands aloft the shining goblet hold, [gold Pond'rous with gems, and rough with sculptur'd When silence was proclaim'd, the royal fair Thus to the gods address'd her fervent pray'r:

Almighty Jove! who plead'st the stranger's Great guardian god of hospitable laws! [cause; Oh! grant this day to circle still with joy, Through late posterity, to Tyre and Troy. Be thou, O Bacchus! god of mirth, a guest; And thou, O Juno! grace the genial feast. And you, my lords of Tyre, your fears remove, And show your guests benevolence and love." She said, and on the board, in open view, The first libation to the gods she threw: Then sipp'd the wine, and gave to Bitias' hand: He rose, obedient to the queen's command; At once the thirsty Trojan swill'd the whole, Sunk the full gold, and drain'd the foaming bowl. Then thro' the peers, with sparkling nectar crown'd, The goblet circles, and the health goes round. With curling tresses grac'd, and rich attire, Iopas stands, and sweeps the golden lyre; The truths, which ancient Atlas taught, he sings, And Nature's secrets, on the sounding strings. Why Cynthia changes; why the Sun retires, Shorn of his radiant beams, and genial fires; From what originals, and causes, came Mankind and beasts, the rain, and rising flame; Arcturus, dreadful with his stormy star; The wat'ry Hyads, and the northern Car; Why suns in summer the slow night detain, And rush so swift in winter to the main. With shouts the Tyrians praise the song divine, And in the loud applause the Trojaus join. The queen, in various talk, prolongs the hours, Drinks deep of love, and ev'ry word devours; This moment longs of Hector to inquire, The next of Priam, his unhappy sire; What arms adorn'd Aurora's glorious son; How high, above his hosts, Achilles shone; How brave Tydides thunder'd on his car; How his fierce coursers swept the ranks of war.

Nay, but at large, my godlike guest, relate The Grecian wiles," she said, " and Ilion's fate; How far your course around the globe extends, And what the woes and fortunes of your friends: For, since you wander'd every shore and sea, Have sev'n revolving summers roll'd away."

Soon as he ceas'd to breathe this vital air, I dragg'd my days in darkness and despair.

Who conscious of the facts my lips relate,

With truth inspire me to declare my fate;

Safe and triumphant to my native shore,
For innocence condemn'd, revenge I vow'd,

Mad as I was, and spoke my rage aloud.
This mov'd Ulysses' hate, and hence arose
My past misfortunes, and my present woes.
Eager he sought the means, and watch'd the time
To charge me too with some pretended crime.
For conscious of his guilt, my death he vow'd,
And with dark hints amus'd the list'ning crowd.
At length with Calchas he concerts the scheme-
But why, why dwell I on this hateful theme?
Or why detain you with a tale of woe?
Since you determine ev'ry Greek, a foe.
Strike, strike; th' Atrides will my death enjoy,
And dire Ulysses thank the sword of Troy.'

"Now blind to Grecian frauds, we burn to know
With fond desire the causes of his woe;
Who thus, still trembling as he stood, and pale,
Pursu'd the moving melancholy tale.

"'Oft' had our hosts determin'd to employ Their sails for Greece, and leave untaken Troy, Urg'd to a shameful flight, from deep despair, And the long labours of a ten years' war.

And oh! that they bad sail'd! -as oft' the force Of southern winds, and tempests stopp'd their

course.

[loud,

But since this steed was rais'd; straight, bellowing
Deep thunders roar'd, and burst from every cloud.
We sent Eurypilus to Phœbus' shrine,

Who brought this sentence from the voice divine;
-When firstye sail'd for Troy, ye calm'd the main
With blood, ye Grecians, and a virgin slain;
And ere you measure back the foamy flood,
Know, you must buy a safe return with blood. -
These awful words to ev'ry Greek impart

Surprise and dread, and chill the bravest heart;
To the dire stroke each thought himself decreed,
Himself the victim that for Greece should bleed.
Ulysses then, importunate and loud,

Produc'd sage Calchas to the trembling crowd,
Bade him the secret will of Heav'n relate-
And now my friends could prophesy my fate;
And base Ulysses' wicked arts, they said,
Were levell'd all at my devoted head.
Ten days the prophet from the crowd retir'd,
Nor mark'd the victim that the gods requir'd.
So long besieg'd by Ithacus he stood,

And seem'd reluctant to the voice of blood;
At length he spoke, and, as the scheme was laid,
Doom'd to the slaughter my predestin'd head,
All prais'd the sentence, and were pleas'd to see
The fate that threaten'd all, confin'd to me.
And now the dire tremendous day was come,
When all prepar'd to solemnize my doom :
The salted barley on my front was spread,
The sacred fillets bound my destin'd head:
I fled th' appointed slaughter, I confess,
And, till our troops should hoist their sails for
Greece,

Swift to a slimy lake I took my flight,

Lay wrapt in flags, and cover'd by the night.
And now these eyes shall view my native shore,
My dear, dear children, and my sire no more;
Whom haply Greece to slaughter has decreed,
And for my fatal flight condemn'd to bleed,
But thee, O gracious monarch, I implore
By ev'ry god, by ev'ry sacred pow'r,

In holy ties the faith of human kind;
Have mercy, mercy, on a guiltless foe,
O'erwhelm'd and sunk with such a weight of woe!

His life we gave him, and dispell'd his fears,

Touch'd with his moving eloquence of tears; And, melting first, the good old king commands To free the captive, and to loose his hands. Then with soft accents, and a pleasing look, Mild and benevolent the monarch spoke.

""Henceforth let Greèce no more thy thoughts employ,

But live a subject and a son of Troy;
With truth and strict sincerity proceed,
Say, to what end they fram'd this monstrous steed;
Who was its author, what bis aim, declare;
Some solemn vow ? or engine of the war?

[state.

"Skill'd in the frauds of Greece, the captive rears His hands unshackled to the golden stars; You, ye eternal splendours! he exclaims, 'And you, divine inviolable flames, Ye fatal swords and altars, which I fied, Ye wreaths, that circled this devoted head; All, all, attest! that justly I release My sworn allegiance to the laws of Greece, Renounce my country, hate her sons, and lay 'Their inmost counsels open to the day. And thou, O Troy, by Sinon snatch'd from fate, Spare, spare the wretch, who saves the Phrygian Greece on Minerva's aid rely'd alone, Since first the labours of the war begun. But from that execrable point of time, When Ithacus, the first in ev'ry crime, With Tydeus' impious son, the guards had slain, And brought her image from the Phrygian fane, Distain'd her sacred wreaths with murderous hands, Still red and reeking from the slaughter'd bands; Then ceas'd the triumphs of the Grecian train, And their full tide of conquest sunk again; Their strength decay'd, and many a dreadful sign To trembling Greece proclaim'd the wrath divine. Scarce to the camp the sacred image came, When from her eyes she flash'd a living flame; A briny sweat bedew'd her limbs around, And thrice she sprung indignant from the ground; Thrice was she seen with martial rage to wield Her pond'rous spear, and shake her blazing shield. With that, sage Calchas mov'd the trembling train To fly, and measure back the deeps again; 'That 'twas not giv'n our armies to destroy The Phrygian empire, and the tow'rs of Troy, Till they should bring from Greece those favouring [floods;

gods,

Who smil'd indulgent, when they plough'd the
With more auspicious signs repass the main,
And with new omens take the field again.
Now to their native country they repair,
With gather'd forces to renew the war;
The scheme of Calchas! but their vanish'd host
Will soon return to waste the Phrygian coast.
All Greece, atoning dire Ulysses' deed,
To Pallas' honour rais'd this wond'rous steed;
But Calchas order'd this enormous size,
This monstrous bulk, that heaves into the skies,
Lest Troy should lead it through her opening gate,
And by this new palladium guard her state.
For oh! ye Phrygians, had your rage profan'd
This gift of Pallas with an impious hand,

"Thus did the perjur'd Sinon's art prevail; Too fondly we believ'd the study'd tale; And thus was Troy, who bravely could sustain Achilles' fury, when he swept the plain, A thousand vessels, and a ten years' war, Won by a sigh, and vanquish'd by a tear.

A

"Here a more dreadful object rose to sight,. And shook our souls with horrour and affright. Unblest Laocoon, whom the lots design Priest of the year, at Neptune's holy shrine Slew on the sands, beside the rolling flood, stately steer, in honour of the god. When, horrid to relate! two serpents glide And roll incumbent on the glassy tide, Advancing to the shore; their spires they raise Fold above fold, in many a tow'ring maze. Beneath their burnish'd breasts the waters glow, Their crimson crests inflame the deeps below; O'er the vast flood extended long and wide, Their curling backs lay floating on the tide;. Lash'd to a foam the boiling billows roar, And now the dreadful monsters reach'd the shore; Their hissing tongues they darted, as they came, And their red eye-balls shot a sanguine flame. Pale at the sight, we fled in dire dismay; Straight to Laocoon they direct their way; And first in curling fiery volumes bound

round,

[rear

In one loud peal th' enormous horse rolls down,
And thund ring gains the center of the town.
Oh Troy, renown'd in war! oh bright abodes!
Oh glorious Troy! the labour of the gods!
Thrice stopp'd unmov'd the monster in the gate,
And clashing arms thrice warn'd us of our fate;
But we, by madness blinded and o'ercome,
Lodge the dire monster in the sacred dome.
Cassandra too, inspir'd, our fate declares

(So Phœbus doom'd) to unregarding ears; [waste
We, thoughtless wretches! deck the shrines, and
In sports the day, which Heav'n decreed our last.
"Now had the Sun roll'd down the beamy light,
And from the caves of ocean rush'd the night;
With one black veil her spreading shades suppress
The face of Nature, and the frands of Greece.
The Trojans round their walls in silence lay,
And lost in sleep the labours of the day.
When lo! their course the Grecian navy bore,
New-rigg'd and arım'd, and reach'd the well-known

shore,

By silent Cynthia's friendly beams convey'd;
And the proud adımiral a flame display'd.
Then Sinon, favour'd by the partial gods,
Unlocks the mighty monster's dark abodes;
His peopled caves pour forth in open air
The heroes, and the whole imprison'd war
Led by the guiding cord, alight with joy
Th' impatient princes, in the midst of Troy;
Machaon first, then great Achilles' heir,
Ulysses, Thoas, Acamas, appear;
A crowd of ch efs with Menelaus succeed;
Epeus last, who fram'd the fraudful steed.
Straight they invade the city, bury'd deep
In fumes of wine, and all dissolv'd in sleep;
They slay the guards, they burst the gates, and
Their fellows, conscious to the bold design. [join
"'Twas now the time when first kind Heav'n

bestows

On wretched man the blessings of repose;
When, in my slumbers, Hector seem'd to rise
A mournful vision! to my closing eyes.
Such he appear'd, as when Achilles' car
And fiery coursers whirl'd him through the war;.
Drawn thro' his swelling feet the thongs I view'd,
His beauteous bo 'y black with dust and blood,
Ye gods! how chang'd from Hector! who with joy
Return'd in proud Achilles' spoils to Troy;
Flung at the ships, like Heav'n's almighty sire,
Flames after flames, and wrapt a fleet in fire.
Now gash'd with wounds that for his Troy he bore,
His beard and locks stood stiffen'd with his gore,
With tears and mournful accents I began,
And thus bespoke the visionary man!

His two young sons, and wrapt them round and

Devour'd the children in the father's view; Then on the miserable father flew,

While to their aid he runs with fruitless haste;
And all the man in horrid folds embrac'd:
Twice round his waist, and round his neck they
Their winding heads, and hiss aloft in air.
His sacred wreaths the livid poisons stain,
And, while he labours at the knots in vain,
Stung to the soul, he bellows with the pain.
So, when the axe has glanc'd upon his skull,
Breaks from the shrine, and roars the wounded

But each huge serpent now retires again,

[bull.

And flies for shelter to Minerva's fane;

Her buckler's orb the goddess wide display'd, And screen'd her monsters in the dreadful shade.

A holy horrour pants in every breast;
All judge Laocoon justly doom'd to bleed,
Whose guilty spear profan'd the sacred steed,
We vote to lead him to Minerva's tow'r,
And supplicate, with vows, th' affended pow'r;
All to the fatal labour bend their care,
Level the walls, and lay the bulwarks bare;
Some round the lofty neck the cables tye,
Some to the feet the rolling wheels apply;
The tow'ring monster, big with Ilion's doom,
Mounts o'er the wall; an army in the womb;
Around the moving pile the children join

The manly charms of that majestic face?" "Nought to these questions vain the shade replies,

And lend their little hands to ruin Troy!

But from his bosom draws a length of sighs;
Fly, fly, oh! fly the gathering flames; the walls
Are won by Greece, and glorious Ilion falls;

Was paid; then strive with destiny no more;

Then, a new fear the trembling crowd possess'd,

disgrace