Yon fair hero who leans on a lance unpointed and bright,
Granted the earliest place in the world of the day and the light,
Half of Italian birth, from the shadows first shall ascend,
Silvius, Alban of name, thy child though born at the end,
Son of thy later years by Lavinia, consort of thine,
Reared in the woods as a monarch and sire of a royal line.
Next to him Procas, the pride of the race; then Capys, and far
Numitor; after him one who again thy name shall revive,
Silvius, hight Æneas, in pious service and war

Noble alike, if to Alba's throne he shall ever arrive.
Heroes fair! how grandly, behold! their manhood is shown,
While their brows are shaded by leaves of the citizen crown!
These on the mountain ranges shall set Nomentum the steep,
Gabii's towers, Fidena's town, Collatia's keep;

Here plant Inuus' camp, there Cora and Bola enthrone,
Glorious names erelong, now a nameless land and unknown.
Romulus, scion of Mars, at the side of his grandsire see
Ilia fair his mother, the blood of Assaracus he!

See on his helmet the doubled crest, how his sire has begun
Marking the boy with his own bright plumes for the world of the sun
Under his auspices Rome, our glorious Rome, shall arise,
Earth with her empire ruling, her great soul touching the skies.
Lo! seven mountains enwalling, a single city, she lies,
Blest in her warrior brood! So crowned with towers ye have seen
Ride through Phrygia's cities the great Berecynthian queen,
Proud of the gods her children, a hundred sons at her knee,
All of them mighty immortals, and lords of a heavenly fee!
Turn thy glance now hither, behold this glorious clan,
Romans of thine. See Cæsar, and each generation of man
Yet to be born of Iulus beneath heaven's infinite dome.
Yonder behold thy hero, the promised prince, upon whom
Often thy hopes have dwelt, Augustus Cæsar, by birth
Kin to the godlike dead, who a golden age upon earth
Yet shall restore where Saturn in Latium's plains was lord,
Ruling remote Garamantes and India's tribes with his sword.
Far beyond all our planets the land lies, far beyond high
Heaven, and the sun's own orbit, where Atlas, lifting the sky,
Whirls on his shoulders the sphere, inwrought with its fiery suns!
Ere his arrival, lo! through shivering Caspia runs
Fear, at her oracle's answers. The vast Mæotian plain,
Sevenfold Nile and his mouths, are fluttered and tremble again;
Ranges of earth more wide than Alcides ever surveyed,

Though he pursued deer brazen of limb, tamed Erymanth's glade,
Lerna with arrows scared, or the Vine God, when from the war
Homeward with ivied reins he conducts his conquering car,

Driving his team of tigers from Nysa's summits afar.

Art thou loath any longer with deeds our sway to expand ?
Can it be fear forbids thee to hold Ausonia's land?

"Who comes yonder the while with the olive branch on his brow,
Bearing the sacred vessels? I know yon tresses, I know
Yon gray beard, Rome's monarch, the first with law to sustain
Rome yet young; from the lordship of Cures' little domain
Sent to an empire's throne. At his side goes one who shall break
Slumberous peace, to the battle her easeful warriors wake,
Rouse once more her battalions disused to the triumph so long,
Tullus the king! Next, Ancus the boastful marches along,
See, overjoyed already by praises breathed from a crowd!
Yonder the royal Tarquins are visible; yonder the proud
Soul of avenging Brutus, with Rome's great fasces again
Made Rome's own; who first to her consul's throne shall attain,
Hold her terrible axes; his sons, the rebellious pair,
Doom to a rebel's death for the sake of Liberty fair.
Ill-starred sire! let the ages relate as please them the tale,
Yet shall his patriot passion and thirst of glory prevail.
Look on the Decii there, and the Drusi; hatchet in hand
See Torquatus the stern, and Camillus home to his land
Marching with rescued banners. But yonder spirits who stand
Dressed in the shining armor alike, harmonious now
While in the world of shadows with dark night over their brow
Ah! what battles the twain must wage, what legions array,
What fell carnage kindle, if e'er they reach to the day!
Father descending from Alpine snows and Monocus's height,
Husband ranging against him an Eastern host for the fight!

Teach not your hearts, my children, to learn these lessons of strife;
Turn not a country's valor against her veriest life.

Thou be the first to forgive, great child of a heavenly birth,
Fling down, son of my loins, thy weapons and sword to the earth!

"See, who rides from a vanquished Corinth in conqueror's car
Home to the Capitol, decked with Achæan spoils from the war!
Argos and proud Mycena a second comes to dethrone,
Ay, and the Æacus-born, whose race of Achilles is sown,
Venging his Trojan sires and Minerva's outraged fane!
Who would leave thee, Cato, untold? thee, Cossus, unknown?
Gracchus' clan, or the Scipio pair, war's thunderbolts twain,
Libya's ruin;-forget Fabricius, prince in his need;
Pass unsung Serranus, his furrows sowing with seed?
Give me but breath, ye Fabians, to follow! Yonder the great
Fabius thou, whose timely delays gave strength to the state.

Others will mold their bronzes to breathe with a tenderer grace,
Draw, I doubt not, from marble a vivid life to the face,
Plead at the bar more deftly, with sapient wands of the wise
Trace heaven's courses and changes, predict us stars to arise.
Thine, O Roman, remember, to reign over every race!
These be thine arts, thy glories, the ways of peace to proclaim,
Mercy to show to the fallen, the proud with battle to tame!"

Thus Anchises, and then as they marveled-further anon:
"Lo, where decked in a conqueror's spoils Marcellus, my son,
Strides from the war! How he towers o'er all of the warrior train!
When Rome reels with the shock of the wild invaders' alarm,
He shall sustain her state. From his war steed's saddle, his arm
Carthage and rebel Gaul shall destroy, and the arms of the slain
Victor a third time hang in his father Quirinus' fane."

Then Æneas, — for near him a youth seemed ever to pace,
Fair, of an aspect princely, with armor of glittering grace,
Yet was his forehead joyless, his eye cast down as in grief –
"Who can it be, my father, that walks at the side of the chief?
Is it his son, or perchance some child of his glorious race
Born from remote generations? And hark, how ringing a cheer
Breaks from his comrades round! What a noble presence is here!
Though dark night with her shadow of woe floats over his face!"

Answer again Anchises began with a gathering tear:
"Ask me not, O my son, of thy children's infinite pain!
Fate one glimpse of the boy to the world will grant, and again
Take him from life. Too puissant methinks to immortals on high
Rome's great children had seemed, if a gift like this from the sky
Longer had been vouchsafed! What wailing of warriors bold
Shall from the funeral plain to the War God's city be rolled!
What sad pomp thine eyes will discern, what pageant of woe,
When by his new-made tomb thy waters, Tiber, shall flow!
Never again such hopes shall a youth of the lineage of Troy
Rouse in his great forefathers of Latium! Never a boy
Nobler pride shall inspire in the ancient Romulus land!
Ah, for his filial love! for his old-world faith! for his hand
Matchless in battle! Unharmed what foeman had offered to stand
Forth in his path, when charging on foot for the enemy's ranks,
Or when plunging the spur in his foam-flecked courser's flanks!
Child of a nation's sorrow! if thou canst baffle the Fates'
Bitter decrees, and break for a while their barrier gates,
Thine to become Marcellus! I pray thee, bring me anon
Handfuls of lilies, that I bright flowers may strew on my son,

VOL. V. -25

Heap on the shade of the boy unborn these gifts at the least, Doing the dead, though vainly, the last sad service."

He ceased. So from region to region they roam with curious eyes, Traverse the spacious plains where shadowy darkness lies. One by one Anchises unfolds each scene to his son, Kindling his soul with a passion for glories yet to be won. Speaks of the wars that await him beneath the Italian skies, Rude Laurentian clans and the haughty Latinus' walls, How to avoid each peril, or bear its brunt, as befalls.

Sleep has his portals twain: one fashioned of horn, it is said, Whence come true apparitions by exit smooth from the dead; One with the polished splendor of shining ivory brightFalse are the only visions that issue thence from the night. Thither Anchises leads them, exchanging talk by the way, There speed Sibyl and son by the ivory gate to the day. Straight to his vessels and mates Æneas journeyed, and bore Thence for Caieta's harbor along the Italian shore.

ENEAS AND THE CYCLOPS.

BY VIRGIL.

(Translation of John Conington.)

THE port is sheltered from the blast,
Its compass unconfined and vast:
But Etna with her voice of fear
In weltering chaos thunders near.
Now pitchy clouds she belches forth
Of cinders red and vapor swarth,
And from her caverns lifts on high
Live balls of flame that lick the sky:
Now with more dire convulsion flings
Disploded rocks, her heart's rent strings,
And lava torrents hurls to day,
A burning gulf of fiery spray.
"Tis said Enceladus' huge frame,
Heart-stricken by the avenging flame,

Is prisoned here, and underneath

Gasps through each vent his sulphurous breath:

And still as his tired side shifts round

Trinacria echoes to the sound

Through all its length, while clouds of smoke
The living soul of ether choke.

All night, by forest branches screened,
We writhe as 'neath some torturing fiend,
Nor know the horror's cause:

For stars were none, nor welkin bright
With heavenly fires, but blank black night
The stormy noon withdraws.

And now the day-star, tricked anew,
Had drawn from heaven the veil of dew:
When from the wood, all ghastly wan,
A stranger form, resembling man,
Comes running forth, and takes its way
With suppliant gesture to the bay.
We turn, and look on limbs besmeared
With direst filth, a length of beard,

A dress with thorns held tight:
In all beside, a Greek his style,
Who in his country's arms erewhile
Had sailed at Troy to fight.

Soon as our Dardan arms he saw,

Brief space he stood in wildering awe

And checked his speed: then toward the shore

With cries and weeping onward bore:

"By heaven and heaven's blest powers, I pray,
And life's pure breath, this light of day,
Receive me, Trojans: o'er the seas
Transport me wheresoe'er you please.
I ask no further. Ay, 'tis true,
I once was of the Danaan crew,
And levied war on Troy:

If all too deep that crime's red stain,
Then fling me piecemeal to the main
And 'mid the waves destroy.
If death is certain, let me die
By hands that share humanity."
He ended, and before us flung
About our knees in suppliance clung.
His name, his race we bid him show,
And what the story of his woe:
Anchises' self his hand extends
And bids the trembler count us friends.
Then by degrees he laid aside
His fear, and presently replied;