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THE ÆNEID.

And sudden stands before their eyes
In Beroe's simulated guise,
Beroe, Doryclus' aged dame,
Who once had children, place and name:
And thus transfigured she proclaims
Her presence to the assembled dames:
'O wretches, whom in Ilium's day
The Argive conqueror spared to slay!
O race long exercised in ill!
For what extreme has Fortune's will
Preserved you living, suffering still?
Now, since our country was no more,
Seven summers nigh have flown,
And we, still tossing ocean o'er,
'Mid reefs of cold bare stone,
O'erarched by alien stars above,
All homeless and unfriended rove,
While through the billows we pursue
Italia, flying from the view,
And down the tides are blown.
Lo, here is Eryx' brother coast,
Acestes too, our kingly host:
Why make not here our home, and bless
With city walls the cityless?
O country! O ye home-god powers
Snatched from the foe in vain!
Shall never town of Troy be ours
In all the world again?
Xanthus and Simois, Hector's streams,
Shall I behold them but in dreams?
Come, share my counsel, and conspire
To wrap these ill-starred ships in fire.
E'en as I slept last night, methought
New-lighted brands Cassandra brought,
And 'Here,' she cried, 'conclude your quest:
Here find your Troy, your home of rest.'
This hour the deed demands.