Aeneid

or like immaculate ivory inclosed

in boxwood or Orician terebinth;

his tresses o'er his white neck rippled down,

confined in circlet of soft twisted gold.

Thee, too, the warrior nations gaze upon,

high-nurtured Ismarus, inflicting wounds

with shafts of venomed reed: Maeonia's vale

thy cradle was, where o'er the fruitful fields

well-tilled and rich, Pactolus pours his gold.

Mnestheus was there, who, for his late repulse

of Turnus from the rampart, towered forth

in glory eminent; there Capys stood,

whose name the Capuan citadel shall bear.

While these in many a shock of grievous war

hotly contend, Aeneas cleaves his way

at midnight through the waters. He had fared

from old Evander to th' Etruscan folk,

addressed their King, and to him told the tale

of his own race and name, his suit, his powers;

of what allies Mezentius had embraced,

and Turnus' lawless rage. He bids him know

how mutable is man, and warning gives,

with supplication joined. Without delay

Tarchon made amity and sacred league,

uniting with his cause. The Lydian tribe,

now destined from its tyrant to be free,

embarked, obedient to the gods, and gave

allegiance to the foreign King. The ship

Aeneas rode moved foremost in the line:

its beak a pair of Phrygian lions bore;

above them Ida rose, an emblem dear

to exiled Trojans. On his Iofty seat

was great Aeneas, pondering the events

of changeful war; and clinging to his side

the youthful Pallas fain would learn the lore

of stars, the highway of dark night, and asks

the story of his toils on land and sea.

Now open Helicon and move my song,

ye goddesses, to tell what host in arms

followed Aeneas from the Tuscan shore,

and manned his ships and traveiled o'er the sea!

First Massicus his brazen Tigress rode,

cleaving the brine; a thousand warriors

were with him out of Clusium's walls, or from

the citadel of Coste, who for arms

had arrows, quivers from the shoulder slung,

and deadly bows. Grim Abas near him sailed;

his whole band wore well-blazoned mail; his ship

displayed the form of Phoebus, all of gold:

to him had Populonia consigned

(His mother-city, she) six hundred youth

well-proven in war; three hundred Elba gave,

an island rich in unexhausted ores

of iron, like the Chalybes. Next came

Asilas, who betwixt the gods and men

interprets messages and reads clear signs

in victims' entrails, or the stars of heaven,

or bird-talk, or the monitory flames

of lightning: he commands a thousand men

close lined, with bristling spears, of Pisa all,

that Tuscan city of Alpheus sprung.

Then Astur followed, a bold horseman he,

Astur in gorgeous arms, himself most fair:

three hundred are his men, one martial mind

uniting all: in Caere they were bred

and Minio's plain, and by the ancient towers

of Pyrgo or Gravisca's storm-swept hill.

Nor thy renown may I forget, brave chief

of the Ligurians, Cinyrus; nor thine,

Cupavo, with few followers, thy crest

the tall swan-wings, of love unblest the sign

and of a father fair: for legends tell

that Cycnus, for his Phaethon so dear

lamenting loud beneath the poplar shade

of the changed sisters, made a mournful song

to soothe his grief and passion: but erewhile,

in his old age, there clothed him as he sang

soft snow-white plumes, and spurning earth he soared

on high, and sped in music through the stars.

His son with bands of youthful peers urged on

a galley with a Centaur for its prow,

which loomed high o'er the waves, and seemed to hurl

a huge stone at the water, as the keel

ploughed through the deep. Next Ocnus summoned forth

a war-host from his native shores, the son

of Tiber, Tuscan river, and the nymph

Manto, a prophetess: he gave good walls,

O Mantua, and his mother's name, to thee,—

to Mantua so rich in noble sires,

but of a blood diverse, a triple breed,

four stems in each; and over all enthroned

she rules her tribes: her strength is Tuscan born.

Hate of Mezentius armed against his name

five hundred men: upon their hostile prow

was Mincius in a cloak of silvery sedge,—

Lake Benacus the river's source and sire.

Last good Aulestes smites the depths below,

with forest of a hundred oars: the flood

like flowing marble foams; his Triton prow

threatens the blue waves with a trumpet-shell;