Page:Aeneid (Conington 1866).djvu/357

When lo! a friendly company
Confronts him midway on the sea:
The nymphs to whom Cybebe gave
As goddesses to rule the wave
They rode as ships before
In seemly order swam the flood,
As many as erewhile had stood
With prows attached to shore.
From far they recognize their king
And round him weave a choral ring.
Cymodoce, of all the train
Chief mistress of the vocal strain,
Her right hand on the vessel lays,
Oars with her left the watery ways,
And borne breast-high above the seas,
Stirs his awed soul with words like these:
'Still wakes Æneas, heaven's true seed?
Still wake, and mend your navy's speed.
Lo here the pines from Ida's seat,
Now ocean-nymphs, your sometime fleet!
What time the faithless Rutule lord
Bore headlong down with fire and sword,
Unwillingly we broke your chain
And went to seek you o'er the main.
The mighty Mother of her grace
In pity changed us, form and face,
And called us to a life divine
With other nymphs beneath the brine.
Your royal heir the while is pent
In palisade and battlement;
A hedge of spears is round him set,
And Latian foes the camp benet.
The Arcade horse with Tyrrhenes joined
Have mustered at the place assigned,
And Turnus bids his warlike train
Waylay them, ere the camp they gain.